


Dead eyes open

by Reitheflaxseed



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Alternate universe - bill is a social worker and secretly a millionaire or smth, Alternate universe- Dipper is a writer and a poet, Bill Cipher - Freeform, BillDip, Bottom Dipper Pines, Daddy Bill, Dipper Pines - Freeform, Drunk Sex, Emotional Baggage, Everything is not what it seems /Wizards of Waverly place theme song plays/, Fluff, FuUcckkk feelsssss, Grunge, Human Bill Cipher, Insomnia, LMAO, M/M, Nihilism, Potential daddy issues, Promiscuity, Self-Harm, Smoking, Sorry people have to go to jail, Stan why, Supportive Bill, Top Bill Cipher, Ugh, Violence, bill is actually not a dickbag, dipper pines is having an existential crisis at the peek of his life, happy gentle sex, just read this okay, lordE helP HIm, millennial struggles, oral sex biTches, people die, philosophical commentary, stay strong kiddo, this will/may relate to your entire life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2018-12-16 03:23:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 66,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11820198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reitheflaxseed/pseuds/Reitheflaxseed
Summary: He was silent almost, as the deep voice gave a crackling chuckle, the cigarette in his hand crumbling black into the comforter as he drew in another breath of toxins“You sayin’ I'm not special?”********************In the autumn of a millennia, nihilistic teenager, Dipper Pines chases after the opportunity of a lifetime, to have his associative theory of philosophy and depression published in a book as part of his PhD scholarship in the liberal arts. His online presence in the artistic media has hailed him a vanguard of a generation as well, but in actuality, no one knows who he really is. Inspiration hits him in the dirtiest of alleys, the dingiest of parties and the arms of the coldest strangers.Dipper has reached a crux in his 19 year old life, feeling like nothing has been truly accomplished and that he will never be good enough, always chasing the kind, deep blue eyes that caught him hook line and sinker.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The girl who died inside but lived for everyone else](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=The+girl+who+died+inside+but+lived+for+everyone+else).



> Hello everyone! Sorry for the wait but here is the first chapter of this random Drabble fic I thought of as some old Billdip feels started hitting me in the bALlSszx :'>
> 
> lmk what you think in the comments below! Enjoy~

Midnight filters through the tangled blinds of the room, street lamps casting geometric dark shapes across the white sheen of the bed where two bodies lay, a valley between them, nicotine mist heavy in the air. A gentle sigh, a temperamental silence as the party thrums on outside, a dull ache munching on the corners of their reality. A dark, husky voice breaks the silence first, voice just an octave above the purr of an engine.

“I Guess you'll write about me now huh?”

“I write about everyone.”

Comes the reply, Dipper’s voice a gentle drawl, a steep contrast to the one before. He was silent almost, as the deep voice gave a crackling chuckle, the cigarette in his hand crumbling black into the comforter as he drew in another breath of toxins

“You sayin’ I'm not special?”

Dipper swallowed at the prospect of the question, somehow getting the feeling that the older man was only half joking as he shifted from his space on the bed to sit on the edge, presumably gathering his things to go.

“No… everyone is different…”

Dipper responded honestly, his reply just as ambiguous as he studied the myriad of tattooed, cryptic patterns dancing across the expanse of the man's back. Lightly tanned skin, lean, rippling muscle and broad chest. Good ass. Nice and taut.

“Well, did ya at least like my dick, Mr Monotone? You're breakin’ my heart ‘ere”

The man rasped between a laugh as he tucked the cigarette between his teeth and pulled his black skinny jeans up his marbled legs. Natural, light blonde hair was tousled almost strategically atop the male’s head, slick with sweat and heat from their rather intense session just a few minutes earlier, the sharp contours of his face highlighted with every contrasting shadow and the warm glow of his cigarette. Dipper could help but wonder how it must have felt going full commando in a pair of pants like that, but caught himself before he stared too Long.

“.....um.. well yes- I-um…”

“I'm just yankin’ ya kid, don't answer that…”

The man smiled, stubbing his cigarette in the ashtray as he turned to face the brunet laying in the bed, his blue eyes piercing, seemingly alit from within.

“Your back okay? I could give ya a ride home.”

He said rather matter-of-factly, stating an offer more than he was asking a question. Dipper cleared his throat slightly, his ears growing hot at the tone of what appeared to be concern in the stranger’s voice. There was no heat in the gesture as Dipper then shifted slightly to pull up his boxers and shook his head, smiling softly in thanks with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. The man combed his platinum blonde hair back, not breaking eye contact as if he expected Dipper to say something, anything. But the teen found no words and simply gazed back into the ocean depths of the Man's eyes, feeling something leave him as the man threw on his grey sweater and gave a wide grin that split his handsome features in two, not looking back once as he headed for the door.

The room smelt like sex, soot and the void of horrors that was this reality. It felt like a dream. A nightmare of wanton reclusion.

“I...I like your eyes...they're pretty.”

The man's hand is on the doorknob. Bill, he said, his name was. Bill visibly paused at the sudden chirrup of Dipper’s voice, but still opened the door to the bright white light of the hotel hallway, and Dipper was never actually ever that disappointed at the prospect of someone leaving right after.

“Heh, write about them then. About my eyes, that is.”

“..........”

Another Long, uncomfortable silence, and Dipper swallowed, letting his gaze fall as Bill rubbed the back of his neck and gave a shit eating grin that burned a hole through Dipper’s chest in the most pleasant of ways

“Goodbye little tree.”

And the door shut quietly, considerately leaving the night and Dipper with his lonesome. The teen choked on something as he pulled out his own cigarette tin and lit the joint, taking shuddering breaths like his life depended on the nicotine coursing through his system.

This was real. This was his reality.  
Ash seared the back of his throat as he took a draw too deep and he coughs, gulping down air like he was a fish out of water. One thing was for sure that he wasn't choking on the soot, and the heat in his eyes wasn't from the smoke.

 _************************_  
_We’re all playing the same game;_  
Just different levels.  
We're all in the same hell,  
Just different devils  
As I tied a rock to my ankle and  
Lept into the sea,  
I saw darkness and  
A mystery.  
The world silenced itself,  
And I was the shoreline  
Parallel to your hungry waters.

Dipper let out a small breath, face flushed with the sharp chill of an Oregon autumn as he shifted comfortably into the tattered backseat of the first 5am public shuttle bus back home. He snuggled his Chin into the loops of the mustard yellow scarf around his neck, complementing the dark green of his coat and the white of his turtleneck as he checked the status of his blog and sucked in a soft breath.

There were about 147 messages in his inbox, and he had just cleared them 2 days ago.

It had been a while since he last posted anything after all, much less announced a stage or book reading at the local poetry shack. Life had just been too exhausting recently, and the stress of his scholarship demands in literature and history wasn't helping much either. He heaved a sigh and tried his best to ignore the stifling pain in his lower back from the night before as he rested his legs on the seat rest before him.

Bill. Bill Cipher.

He typed into the search bar of Google, feeling like a stalker or some creep as he questioned his own sanity as per usual. That was how Bill said he had found out about the writer himself after all. Decidedly, Dipper thought it was okay, because there was something comforting about the fact that no one else in the bus was there to possibly judge him, side from the half awake driver at the wheel of the shuttle.

His data plan sucked ass, but that was interrupted just as the caller ID of his Grunkle Stan consumed his search results, drawing out a soft groan from the youth. He did tell Mabel to inform Stan of his whereabouts for the evening; ie he was working overtime at the bookstore.

“Morning Grunkle-”

“Dipper where the hell were ya last night?! You are a kid for god’s sake you can’t just go slinking around and not come home without telling me ya hear?”

“So-sorry Grunkle Stan..i did tell Mabel to tell ya i was working the night shift at the bookstore-”

Dipper tried gently, trying to sound rightfully confused but the crack at the end of his sentence betrayed him.

“Dipper. I was at the Mystery Shack last night. K?”

A sigh, disappointment maybe, and Dipper felt his stomach lurch with guilt as he sank further into the worn seat of the bus, picking at a seam in the tearing nylon.

“Look kid, you are 19, i get it, you don't have to tell me exactly where you are or what you are doing just...a head’s up in the future would be nice, yeah?”

There was a resignation to Stan’s voice, but Dipper knew better than to hold it against the only father figure he really had in his life. After all, nothing was out of spite, only fear and genuine concern.

“Yeah...sorry Grunkle Stan. I promise i’ll call next time.”

Dipper said softly, breath chilled as the said guilt settled heavily like a brick in his empty stomach. Stan was nothing short of the best relative anyone could have asked for, understanding, kind and patient. He should have known better than to just run off like that in the middle of the night without telling him or Grunkle Ford.

“Okay. Now get your scrawny ass back here. Mabel’s making pancakes and bacon for breakfast.”

******************************************.

Dipper nearly missed his stop and scrambled out of the bus, almost forgetting to press the save button for his newest poem for his book and his blog. He leaped out the doors of the rickety vehicle, and as soon as his feet hit the pavement it was speeding away. Letting out a little breath he didn't know he had been holding in, Dipper cursed softly as he saw that it was drizzling lightly, but just enough that he knew would wet his laptop in his backpack and Soak his journals. Realising it was stupid of him to have forgotten to bring a umbrella out, Dipper was just about to ring up his Grunkle when he heard a familiar flurry of wet flip flops against the pavement and down the sidewalk.

“Dippppeeerrrrr!!!!!!”

Mabel shrieked, and Dipper winced. Good god it was 7am in the morning and he was sure no one else in the Neighbourhood needed the noise. She was dressed in a light pink sundress and a beige cardigan, a bright smile on her face as she skipped her way into the shelter with a pastel green umbrella. Dipper cracked a small smile at the sight of his cute twin Sister though, and caught her in his arms as soon as she made a beeline for them.

She had grown, but Dipper was Glad that in the end puberty made sure he had the upper hand and he was now a 3 inches taller than Mabel was. The boy laughed as Mabel glomped him tightly in response and snuggled into his chest, eyes alight with a bright flame. She was the embodiment of happiness.

“I made pancakes with glittery sprinkles!! Come on we….Bro-Bro you don't look so good”

She suddenly remarked, demeanour going a full 180. Dipper gulped, the gentle smile on his face never fading as he shrugged and chuckled.

“Long night… I wanted to catch up with my assignments away from home..”

Mabel wrinkled her nose in response and got off Dipper in a huff, dragging him to stand up as they shared the umbrella in the rain.

“.... you know we aren't kids anymore Dipper...you can tell me.”

Mabel started off slowly but was frank with her word choice, unable to hide the sadness in her voice at the prospect that Dipper didn't want to tell her the truth.

“......w-waddaya mean?”

Dipper played coy but stumbled, and he listened to the therapeutic sound of rain hitting the canvas of the umbrella with muted plops, Mabel's palm warm in his own.

“Your clothes reek of cologne and… well, I’ll cover for yah but change before ya get Pancakes k?”

Mabel's smile was soft along the edges, lined with sympathy and understanding more than anything as she glanced up to Dipper and unlocked the door to their home.

It wasn't much. Just him, Mabel, Grunkle Stan and Ford in a small apartment shophouse across the street from the bookstore: the mystery shack. It sold all kinds of nick-nacks, but was popular for its collection of crypts and old books of mythology and artistic documentation. Dipper loved spending time there ever since his childhood, drowning in the prospect of knowledge and immersing himself in every book he could get his hands on. Even now, he spends time there, reading behind the counter and writing and taking note of every individual that walked into the store. “People watching” as Mabel fondly called it.

Before Dipper got a chance to brood over the topic, The strong sugary scent of pancakes hit him in the face, but he was quickly shoved up the stairs by Mabel as she created diversions for him regarding the grumpy Grunkles in the kitchen squabbling over the news of Donald Trump and his ignorance to the race issue in the states.  
The teen stumbled up the creaky floorboards and into his room, heaving a soft sigh as he dumped his bag on his bed and immediately began shedding his clothing. Pants then shirt then-

Dipper groaned slightly feeling his hips creak as he reached over to take off his socks, the sharp pain shuddering through every vertebrae of his spine. Making note not to bend over for the next week or so, Dipper entered the bathroom and turned on the heater, only to be horrified as he looked in the mirror.

Purple marks stained his neck, skin sucked tender and chomped down by his guest the night before. Dipper shuddered, remembering the possessive way Bill had shoved him against a wall and ravished his neck as soon as they got to the hotel room. His nose was cold against Dipper’s clavicles as he kissed across his chest and pulled his turtleneck off in a yank, large, boney hands with slender fingers trailing across his skin and pressing greedily into the curvature of his ass-

God. Bill was a rough fuck.

Dipper shuddered, the guilt creeping up his throats and crawling across his arms as he shuddered, gently touching a mark that was slightly more bruised and angry that the rest. Dipper swore he could feel the indentations of Bills teeth imbedded in his Hot, flushed skin as he winced slightly at the thought of having to cover all these up. Thank goodness it was Already Autumn.

Stepping into the shower, dipper grimaced at the cold tiles beneath his skin, shuddering as the warmth of the heated water splattered onto his back and hit the floor. His skin itched with a feeling of strange abandonment as he ran a soapy palm across the aching dip of his waist and across his stomach, noticing a sharp, reddened mark blooming down against the hit of his hipbone.

“God...how many…”

Dipper muttered under his breath, but quickly inhaled as he saw the beginnings of what appeared to be a telephone number scribbled haphazardly into his inner thigh. The teen swallowed and tilted his head to get a better look, blushing heavily as he realised how hard he was probably fucked into the mattress, stupid with pleasure to not be able to notice a cold sharpie scribbling against his inner thigh. Thinking back, Dipper did remember wondering why Bill’s digits were impeccably freezing as he traced patterns on his inner thighs somewhere through their second or third round.

Or maybe the fourth.

Regardless, Dipper quivered, squinting to get a better look at the black digits scrawled across his pale, wet skin.

9789 6666

Dipper swallowed at the eerie prospect of the last few numbers but clamped a solid hand over the emotions threatening to spill over from his heart, thumping hard in his chest. If Bill could get a number on his body, who knew what else he could have done?

Dipper did remember passing out a few times at their go getting after all.

It was a random party that He got invited to by one of his seniors in the same scholarship he was in, and Bill had just approached him. Dipper wasn't too much of a party animal, and the older man had just slunk up next to him at the bar in the private event room in the hotel.

There was an enriching conversation about astrology and some light hearted debate about the significance of Pathos in contemporary films- Bill was exceptionally intelligent.

And that was extremely sexy

Dipper shuddered, his thighs trembling at the thought.

More than the man’s broad chest and lean shoulders and sun kissed skin and his deep, almost thick and creamy voice, tongue that enunciated every word down to the last syllable.

Good grammar was always a turn on.

Dipper found himself physically restraining his hands from touching his body anymore while thinking of the piercing ocean blue eyes of the Man he knew as Bill Cipher. His eyes fluttered close and he took a decisive breath; in and out.

Nothing more than a one night stand. That was Always Dipper’s policy, after all.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Dipper clambered down the stairs carefully, the dull ache in his lower back wracking his frame as he walked with a slight hobble. He hoped to God it wasn't obvious. He had never once since his habit of sleeping around at 17 ever encountered a partner that extreme or sex that mind blowing. It all happened too quick too fast and ended before Dipper managed to get a word out of his mouth.

Deep, shrewd azure eyes were inked into his memory

Shuddering slightly, Dipper took in the warm glow of the sunrise as it shot through the open windows in their kitchen, casting a soft, comforting light at the scene at the dinner table. Grunkle Stan was in his usual heart boxers, sipping coffee over an empty plate that once held pancakes. Ford was probably already in the basement tinkering by now. Mabel was humming a tune as she cut into her own Pancakes and looked up excitedly to Dipper, already having prepared a stack of the stuff for him. As he walked over to take a seat, Grunkle Stan peered over the top of his newspaper, raising an eyebrow as he noticed Dipper already wrapped up in a maroon turtleneck, glancing at the table and unable to meet the elderly man's eyes. He usually would have been chomping down at his funfetti Pancakes at this point, dousing them with Syrup like kerosene.

“You okay kiddo?”

He asked, voice gruff but concern leaking through his teeth

“O-oh yeah!”

Dipper managed, bumping his knee on the underside of the table as he looked up at Stan and hesitantly grabbed at his fork. He felt his stomach lurch as he cut into a rainbow pancake, watching how the different Colours bled into the white fluffiness of the cake; sugary food was the last thing he really wanted in his body right now.

He unintentionally recalled the taste of Bill’s lips against his own; the overpowering sweetness of Vanilla and toasted cinnamon from his Horchata vodka, the cream of sweetened milk and the haze of cigarettes dancing along his tongue. Powerful. Dominating his body, pressing gently, yet passionately, tongue daring and explicit.

“You're stoning dude.”

Mabel mumbled softly, and punched him playfully in the shoulder, smiling a small smile but pausing as she saw Dipper only respond with a soft nod.

“S-sorry...I'm just a bit tired, I'll be fine after a bit..”

Dipper swallowed and was thankful no one pushed him further or he was going to have a miniature breakdown. He needed to meditate for a while. He needed to write.

“Thanks for breakfast Mabel...I-I'm not really that..hungry right now but I'll take them with me.”

Dipper stood up abruptly and took his plate to the kitchen, unable to look anyone in The Eye as he scrambled to place the food in a Tupperware. Mabel seemed to want to say something, but was stopped as Stan placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and kept the silence, letting Dipper shuffle around wordlessly and pack his backpack.

“I'll head out to the shop...I'll cover for today..”

Dipper looked up with a small huff, straightening his back and adjusting his bag strap, glancing between the two at the table. Stan raised a curious brow but chuckled and dug into his pocket for the key to the mystery shack after a short pause.

“Don't know what's gotten into you kid. But I'm not complaining...take care and remember to lock up.”

He smiled a crooked smile that Dipper couldn't help but return, and that lifted his mood significantly. Mabel hugged him and he planted a kiss on her forehead, ruffling her hair slightly as he bjd them goodbye before slipping on his shoes and leaving through the back door, deciding to take the Long way around today.

***************************  
There gentle autumn Breeze swept up the leafy corpses on the ground, dead, browning leaves billowing in small spirals across the road. Dipper sucked in a deep breath, ignoring the constant vibrations of his phone going off in his pocket. Either from the gushing wave of comments probably now flooding his blog due to a new post, or just his history lecturer bugging him for his late paper. Heck, even if it was his scholarship mentor nipping at his heels to finish the draft for the first chapter of his book, he didn't feel like socially interacting with anyone today. At least not via social media. That was absolutely exhausting.

Dipper loved people. Loved as in the way a scientist would love his lab coat or his lab rats. Humans were interesting, and Dipper had already decided that he was dedicating his life to studying the sociology of people, detaching emotion from logic. He preferred calling or face to face chit chat. Texting or emails were…taxing, to say the least.

So when he saw a person already standing outside the shop, waiting patiently while reading the chalkboard next to the door, Dipper was Glad he was going to have something to distract him from the bastard of a device that had only really brought him stress.

 Dipper held onto the railing as he walked up the few steps to the shop, his body just a hindrance at this point.

“Good morning sir.”

Dipper said with a small smile as he glanced briefly at the back of the man, dragging his own feet up the stairs, only to receive a deep chuckle in response.

“Ah…Mornin’ Pine tree.”

Dipper’s shot up, his jaw unhinging itself unwittingly at the sound of the warm voice.

“B-Bill…?”

He stumbled out, almost losing his balance before catching himself on the railing just as Bill reached a hand out to grab him. Dipper drew back rather defensively, more than he had intended to, eliciting an inquisitive glance from the older man. Seeing the younger boy’s lapse in composure, the blonde cleared his throat slightly, patting down his pale Yellow dress shirt slightly. Ugh. Gaudy.

“Mm. You shouldn't leave your business cards just hanging around kid…”

Bill chuckled softly with a hint of endearment that Dipper wasn't sure he was comfortable with.

“I-I didn't… it was in my back pockets…”

The teen said carefully, unable to control the slight blush creeping onto his face as he gave Bill a once over; His Platinum blonde locks were slicked back slightly, a few strands strategically out of place and hanging over his left eye. He had on a pastel yellow dress shirt tucked neatly into a pair of black slacks, displaying the sharp dip of his broad chest to his hips. The almost comical formal wear complete with a black bow tie and gloves, only adding a heightened element to Bill’s already mysterious demeanour. Riveting. An odd choice in Colour that suited him surprisingly well.

Dipper shuffled hurriedly past the taller man, trying best not to limp or make any more eye contact as he made an attempt to unlock the door to the mystery shack.

“Ah, right. Well same thing, theoretically speaking..”

Bill mumbled thoughtfully and smiled, walking over so he was right beside the teen. Dipper’s hands shook slightly, the overbearing presence of the man next to him causing him to miss the keyhole several times before getting it right. Dipper didn't mind that Bill was here, in fact, quite the opposite. It was just the shock and the nerves putting him on edge because the brunet could smell his cologne; the smell of fresh clothes out of the dryer and the freshness of a dew slicken forest, damp with nicotine and hair gel.

“You okay Pine tree..?”

A gentle, gloved palm had rested on his arm as the lock clicked open and Dipper couldn't help but shun away slightly like it was a knee-jerk reaction. His hazel eyes darted up to look to Bill who appeared to be both startled yet mildly amused at his reaction, a coy smile playing across his lips.

“....Mason, right? Mason Pines….”

“Dipper. It's...it's Dipper.”

The young man quickly corrected, his discomfort apparent as he quickly turned on his heel to enter the shop and flick the lights on. As the familiar yellowed fluorescence filled the room and the dusty curtains were drawn back, Dipper stifled a sneeze, trying to ignore the fact the Bill still stood outside the opened glass door, waiting patiently with his arms folded behind him. After fussing around with some papers on the desk and switching the heater on, Dipper felt his stomach settle significantly, and he looked up to see the 6 foot man still patiently looking through the glass, expression Smug yet not unpleasant. A gloved hand tapped the window slightly, signalling to the “open” sign that was now facing inwards.

What are you doing here?

Dipper wanted to be rude. He really did but he knew better than to provoke someone. Sighing softly, he flipped the sign to signal the shop’s opening and stepped back, watching as what seemed to be an excited Trill rose from Bill’s throat when he was let in. The blonde man gave the place a quick look over and hummed in acknowledgement before turning to Dipper, blue eyes dancing with some form of unsaid glee before settling as his voice fell at least an octave

“Dipper. I came here to talk...that is, in case you were wondering…”

He murmured the last bit, his voice wavering partially as he shifted slightly where he stood. Oh my. Was he nervous?

“Um...what exactly is there to talk about…?”

Dipper responded, tone just as uncertain as he felt a hot flush creep across his stomach. Bill seemed to knaw on his lower lip thoughtfully for a moment before responding, head tilting slightly like a small puppy.

“Well...there are a lot of things we could talk about. You are awfully well read for someone your age.”

The ego card was played and Dipper felt his gut do a flip, pining on the possibility that the compliment was nothing but a simple comment.

“But...you didn't ever write down my number did ya?”

Another wave of an uncomfortable warmth itched across Dipper’s chest and neck, remembering how he had tried to scrub the numbers off his inner thigh fervently in the bath, only to no avail. Was Bill a fucking telepath?

“Hahaha...it’s fine kid, it was pretty weird for me to do something like that..”

Bill uttered softly and a wave of what seemed to be contrite washed over his face as he shoved a gloved hand into his pocket and lifted his head to speak.

“I just. Really wanted to make sure I could see you again…Sorry.”

The words came out quick, but hesitant, and Dipper swore softly as he tripped over the chair at the checkout counter. Bill reached out to catch him once again, the pain in his eyes in mistakable as Dipper shunned away once again, almost recoiling.

“Lo-look….I…”

Dipper stuttered, still unsure of what was happening as shuffled his hand frantically across the back of the counter until his fingers closed around a letter Opener defensively. Bill seemed to take heightened notice of his anxiousness and took a generous step back, hands up

“Hey, chill out kiddo- I just wanted to ask if we could...you know..”

“...Hook up again?”

Dipper interjected, grip tightening on the metal in his palm, but knowing if Bill ever did anything he would be powerless against him because he was chicken. The older man look visibly surprised and immediately scrambled to explain

“What- no-no i…I just want to get to know you better, God do you really think I'm that shallow..?”

His tone was incredulous, and the fire fell from Dipper’s defensive facade. He relaxed, gulping in a deep breath of air as he watched Bill slowly slip a gloved hand across his own on the table, prying the letter opener from his grasp.

“Sorry…I don't do anything more than touch and go. I-I am flattered though.”

Dipper started, feeling Bill’s fingers gently curl around his own in an extremely non-threatening way that was extraordinarily comforting.

“Well...there is always such thing as ‘Exception proves the rule.’.”

Bill hummed gently, setting foot once again into the younger man’s personal space and swallowing him up in an air of dominance that left the teen breathless. Brown eyes met a piercing blue and Dipper shuddered as Bill gave him a gentle smile, bringing the teen’s hand up to cup the side of his jaw.

“...But then isn’t that a paradox in itself? That there must be an Exception to the statement that  
‘To every rule there is an exception.”

Dipper mumbled softly, hand sliding off Bill’s face as the older man let him go. The blonde seemed to raise a brow in amusement, clearly impressed by the Teen’s quick witted response

“Ah.. so you've read about the theory then? Once again you have surprised me, Dipper Pines…”

The brunet flushed slightly at the compliment, easily sliding into the comfort that was now their harmless banter. He nodded silently and decided to busy himself with setting up his laptop to work on his blog and maybe his novel, leaving the blonde to discover the store.

A small fire kindled inside him as he noticed the way Bill seemed to look him over for a while before realising this was the end of their conversation. He shuffled awkwardly before taking a hike around the store, and Dipper wished he had brought his earphones along so this strange interjection would have been a little less painful. This was especially so when he heard the bell on the door handle jingling, his hands still frozen atop the keyboard of his blank document.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Sorry if this chapter was sort of boring but it was meant to be a filler and to build plot :'>
> 
> The concept of Bill's Character that I had in mind may seem a bit wonky now but... all encounters after one night stands will seem weird I guess(?) 
> 
> Please leave a kudos if you enjoyed this and would like for me to continue! :> leave your thoughts and opinions in the commmet section below too cause I love reading what you all think :>
> 
> See you soon!  
> -Rei


	3. Chapter 3

“I heard you like strange ones…”

It had been about a month since the incident at the shack with Bill and Dipper hadn't heard of him since. It was a pity really, Dipper loved the conversation they had had before it all went down that night, and he would be delighted to have many more; he just couldn't deal with the fact that Bill was after commitment

The days had become shorter and the nights had gotten longer this time of the year, and Dipper was nursing a mojito at the bar just along the end of the Neighbourhood. He didn't frequent it as it was usually filled with flirtatious women and men like the one he was currently forced to have conversation with. 

“Well a blood test I took said I was 3% Irish and 5% Japanese, that's pretty exotic don't ya think?” 

Dumb. Superficial. Hypermasculine with no particular sense of self awareness.

The caucasian man before him laughed heartily and stretched, obviously to show off his rippling muscles beneath his fake orange skin. He had on a pair of sunglasses clippped to his Singlet even though it was the middle of September and his bermudas were an ugly baby blue. His armpit hair wasn't even trimmed and he had a bloody SUPREME snapback on. Ugh. Muscle heads and Gym rats. This place reeked of them. 

Heaving a gentle sigh Dipper avoided the man's eyes as he stirred and downed the rest of his drink, deciding that he wasn't going to waste his time with lousy company. His night would be better spent somewhere else; where someone more intellectually inclined could get into his pants. So without a word, Dipper slid off the barstool and fixed his hair briefly, leaving the man at the bar gaping like an idiot. 

“Hey, where do you think you're going sugar?”

Dipper headed towards the coat hanger to get his jacket, only to hear the sound of heavy footsteps closing in behind him. Choosing to not even glance behind, Dipper hastily headed for the door and hoped to god he would NOT have to deal with this. 

“I'm feeling a bit tired. I'm heading home for the night.”

Dipper lied, pulling up his phone to check the time as he placed a hand on the door knob, swallowing the knot in his throat.

6.42pm

“What are you talking about? It's not even dark out yet, baby…”

He heard the jock drawl from behind him, a hand gripping his waist and drawing him backwards. He tsked softly in disbelief and cleared his throat, struggling slightly as the man held on to his forearm next. The teen, needless to say was extremely uncomfortable, but knew better than to start a ruckus in such a situation.

“Look…I'm feeling pretty generous tonight… so how about I get you a drink or two and we can spend the night at my place..?” 

Dipper grimaced inwardly as the older man’s warm breath ghosted past his ear with the offer, the smell of beer strong as it wafted past him, almost as disgusting as the idea of sleeping with someone so profoundly distasteful in every way, shape and form. 

“Sorry, I don't come to bars to spend nights with men who buy me drinks. I'm not a prostitute.”

Dipper said rather matter of factly and gently tried to Pry himself from the man’s increasingly steady hold on his arm. He gulped as he realised the man was not relenting and shrugged his arm off gruffly, stumbling a few steps back as he managed to get free. But the jock clearing wasn't having it and caught Dipper’s wrist yet again, this time shoving him roughly against the wall beside the entrance and leaning into his neck. Oh boy.

“Of course you're not a hooker. I'm not paying ya..”

He hissed, clearly unamused at Dipper’s snide reply. But Dipper honestly rather be beaten to a pulp than spend a night with such a thick-headed personification of the word “douchebag”. A harsh twist of the arm and Dipper gave a silenced gasp of pain, gulping as he was threatened into submission.

“Shut up, or i’ll do worse…”

The teen could only look down and think of something witty to say, resisting as much as he could and kicking against the wall as he felt warm lips against the skin below his ear. If Dipper believed in God, he would have been praying.

“Is there a problem here?”

Came a soft drawl from the doorway, a man swathed in a black leather overcoat with inquisitive blue eyes spoke up as the bar doors opened and closed, water droplets sliding down the smooth surface of his coat as he hesitantly shrugged it off. He didn't seem to pay much attention to what was going on as he folded up his cloak and hung it over his arm; Platinum blonde hair and sun kissed skin, a white dress shirt tucked into dark brown slacks and clipped with yellow suspenders. Dipper felt his heart skip at least 2 Beats.

“No. Just this little sugarplum getting a little too frisky for my liking..”

The jock hummed casually as if everything was perfectly normal and Dipper wasn't a frantic mess as he was pinned to the wall, struggling like a butterfly caught and put on display.

“Bill-!”’

Dipper felt the name leave his lips before he could even stop himself, his own voice barely above a harsh whisper as he swallowed in disbelief, now finding it in himself to put up a fight.

“....Pine Tree?”

The taller blonde spoke incredulously, almost immediately throwing his coat down and stalking over towards where the jock was having his way with the younger man, tugging Dipper’s black sweater up his stomach. 

“Get off him.”

Bill almost growled, and Dipper struggled to reach for the gloved hand trying to shove the other man off him. The teen found purchase around Bill’s strong forearm and was pulled free almost instantaneously. He scrambled to stand behind the towering blonde and gulped as the jock glared at him before turning his attention to Bill with a death stare

“What the hell man! Get your own company!”

Dipper shrank nervously behind Bill at the statement, but held his ground, swallowing in defeat as he decided to come to terms with the fact that Bill could actually just hand him over again if he felt like it. But a few seconds later, an arm was gently draped across his shoulder and he was pressed hip to hip against Bill, the smell of aftershave and hair gel and rain and nicotine invading his senses yet again. 

“No. You were harassing someone who was unwilling to be in contact with you. Ergo, unwelcome sexual advances, requests for sexual favors, and other verbal or physical harassment of a sexual nature that are hence unlawful. That is, according to Criminal law, an offence, where Sexual harassment against any gender is a form of sex discrimination that violates Title VII of the Civil Rights Act of 1964.”

“What?”

“I'm a lawyer. Get out of my sight before I sue.”

Bill monotoned, pulling out his wallet to reveal a humbly polished silver attorney badge and his ID, almost comically. Dipper blinked, unsure of how to react at the notion. But Bill on the other hand, was evidently unamused, brows furrowed as he watched the jock curse under his breath before giving him the finger. How mature. 

Either way, he left, tail between his legs and Dipper let out a silent breath he didn't realise he had been holding in. There was a brief moment of silence before Bill slowly turned to face him, dropping to his knees almost dramatically as damp, leather gloves trailed across his face frantically before coming to rest on his shoulders.

“Are you alright? Did he hurt you..?”

Bill’s voice was a hushed Whisper and he looked flustered to say the least, blue eyes desperately searching Dipper’s for the response he hoped to hear 

“N-no… he didn't get very far…”

Dipper stammered out, feeling his stomach lurch as Bill heaved a soft sigh of relief and looked down briefly before smiling a tight lipped smile. 

“Ah. Thank goodness…”

Dipper could feel the hesitance coursing through Bill as he slowly let go of his shoulders and stood up straight, dusting off his slacks and clearing his throat. 

“Well, would you like me to take you home? I don't have a car or anything but perhaps I could accompany you in case trouble follows suit?”

Bill chimed in almost immediately, as if to fill the awkward silence that could have followed as he grabbed Dipper’s coat off the floor and handed it to him before picking up his own. The teen could only nod, frankly unable to fathom what could have happened if Bill hadn't stepped in just in time. He was embarrassed, needless to say, and was grateful that the older man did not push further.

“...I read your poem about me. I won't lie and say I didn't psychoanalyse it for the next week and a half.” 

Bill hummed as he opened his umbrella, eliciting a small splutter of laughter from the younger teen as he let himself be pulled into Bill's side so they could share the shelter from the rain

“Well, technically I don't really write about the people I meet… it's more like how different people have different vibes, different energies.”

Dipper explained softly, feeling the way Bill’s gloved hands dug protectively into the dip of his waist. The blonde male clucked slightly at this and glanced down briefly at the tuft of curly chestnut hair pressed to the side of his coat and feeling a bitterness rise up in his throat where it once didn't exist. 

“I see…but the inspiration you draw from people must be quite brilliant then, for you to receive a publishing opportunity and a PHD for all….well that.”

He responded with a silent whistle and Dipper felt a bad joke creep up from within him that he knew he simply had to share

“Well, you know what they say; Sex sells…”

Bill guffawed, laughter rumbling like thunder in the sky above them, rousing the gentle storm. Dipper couldn't help but let a proud smile leak across his features as Bill sighed softly and comically wiped a tear from his eye and asked him to join him for food somewhere. He did love the company, and he was hungry. The hesitance admittedly had left him at this point, and Dipper knew he was nothing short of intrigued by this man who had somehow burst into his life, combusting all at once. 

Curiosity gnawed at the edges of his brain as usual, Bill now holding the bait of knowledge just out of his reach.

***************************

“So….what were you doing at that shitty bar anyways?”

Dipper asked as he played with a stray strawberry on his plate with a fork, unable to meet Bill’s blue eyes that seemed to be twinkling in nothing short of delight ever since they had sat down in the cosy late night cafe tucked into the corner of the city centre. 

“Ah~ says the boy that went there on the hunt for new writing material…”

Bill answered with a devilish smirk, resting his Chin atop his now bare hands as he kept his eyes on the brunet, elbows propped up on the table. Dipper felt his ears go hot, and judging by the way Bill’s grin got impossibly wider, the teen knew he was having too much fun pinning this on him.

“I asked you a question...it's only polite to answer…and you just don’t seem like the type to go to, well...”

Dipper paused mid sentence as he watched Bill fish out a few tiny marshmallows that were stranded in his hot chocolate with a spoon and eat them, humming in acknowledgement of Dipper’s statement

“Hm, it was the suspenders and the bow tie wasn’t it...too much?”

Bill mumbled, albeit crestfallen as he stirred the warm drink in his hands and took a small sip

“Well, to put this in the simplest form i can explain it as...Appearances are not exactly all there is to an individual, Dipper.”

There was no gall to his words, just a playful air of mystery which only led the teen on even more as Dipper quirked an eyebrow in question, recalling the maze of black ink scrawled along Bill’s back. 

“You’re an attorney.”

Dipper replied, deciding the tattoos may have been a sensitive topic he would avoid for now, placing his fork down on his plate of half finished strawberry crepes. He folded his arms patiently and leaned back against the padded headrest of the cafe seat, believing that the statement he had made in itself was worthy of an explanation for his previous question.

“I am Human.”

Bill countered with an almost diabolic glint in his eyes as he licked the spoon that was in his cup and leveled Dipper’s gaze.

“That still doesn’t answer my question.”

Dipper huffed softly, this time rather bravely as Bill eventually chuckled and nodded in response.

“I was there to have intellectual conversations with little boys and lure them in for sex.”

There was a space of silence as Bill never let his eyes leave Dipper’s piercing judgemental gaze. The teen's lip quivered against his stoic expression before a glorious smirk plastered itself over his face

“Pervert.”

Wow, his condemnatory accusation was absolutely breathtaking.

“Fine, I go there to play the piano Part Time.I work there when I've got no cases to file. It pays well. Glad I came in late for work tonight or… well, we both don't wanna think about that yeah?”

There was something off about Bill’s reasoning, as if it was a cover up for something so much more. It almost seemed to simple, too humble for a man as curious as Bill Cipher. But Dipper let it slide, only now noticing that one side of Bill’s immaculately styled hair was soaking wet; the side that had been facing outwards towards the rain. At that, Dipper let a small smile grace his lips as he just nodded and went back to his crepes, trying hard not to stare as Bill lit a cigarette between his thin lips and sucked in a generous gulp of autumn and breathed out toxins.

*****************************

“You should play for me sometime. Piano I mean…um.”

Bill raised an eyebrow in question as they stopped at the small overhang outside The Pines apartment, pausing from shaking off the black umbrella to look at the young teen. Dipper shifted slightly, hoping the dim light from the street lamp would cast shadows that would obscure the pink creeping onto his cheeks. God dammit.

“Haha...was that an invitation for me to see you again?” 

Bill chuckled teasingly and smiled a smile so Wide Dipper could see it even in the shadow of night. 

“Shut up. I like your company.”

Dipper managed to say without stumbling, looking at his feet as he saw Bill’s shoes step into his vantage point before gloved hands tilted his Chin up so he could look into The teen’s coffee brown eyes. 

“Well...I hope you have my number, yeah? Or will fate see us meet again?” 

Dipper licked his lips tentatively, contemplating for a second as he felt Himself gravitate towards Bill. And for a second more, their lips drew impossibly close.

“Fate. Most definitely fate.” 

Dipper chirruped suddenly and took a step back, taking some delight in the way Bill’s blue eyes faltered for a second before relighting with a newfound fervour. His heart was pounding.

“Well, good night then sugar pine...”

Bill canted his hips as he gave the teen a once over and clucked his tongue, watching as a gorgeous shade of red creeped along the pale expanse of Dipper’s neck that was exposed to a sliver of light from the street lamp. 

“Don't call me that.”

Dipper quickly spat and fumbled with his keys, immediately unlocking the door and slipping inside without another word. The older man smiled warmly, listening as he heard something fall over in the house and multiple light switches flick on for a few seconds before turning on his heel and opening his umbrella once again, walking into the rain. 

As he turned the corner and entered the black Mercedes waiting for him around the block, he felt a vibration from the phone in his pocket and smiled as he saw the message that popped up from the number he had already had saved on his phone 

Little Pine Tree: Thank you.

Good night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAHAHHAHA there is so much more to Bill than what meets The Eye :> this plot will be interesting...
> 
> For those of y'all awaiting smut just wait until the next chapter :> I promise it will be great :'D /shamelessly throws porn/


	4. Chapter 4

“Whatcha so bloody happy about William?”

The man at the front of the Mercedes limousine glowered, a toothpick between his teeth as he started up the engine silently. Bill eased himself into the plush leather of the back seat with a happy trill, glancing one last time at the message on his phone before peeping up into the mirror to meet the green eyes of his senior, Khris.

“Ah… nothing. Just doing my job, taking some breaks.”

It was only then Bill realised how big the smile on his face was.

“You're fucking around with that smart kid who lives near the falls ain't ya?”

The older man in the Driver’s seat chuckled and coughed, removing the toothpick from his mouth and flinging it out the window. Khris was a clever, shrewd guy in his 40s. Married twice, Wife died both times in car crashes with the men they were cheating on Khris with. Heavy built and tall with a strong English accent like a British soldier straight out of the movies, clad in a grey suit with no tie and a scar just below his lower lip. Straight laced, cynical and a horrible, sadistic bastard if he wanted to be. Good with little kids though, something Bill couldn't ever handle.

“Doesn't take a scholar to know you've got it hard this time buddy.”

The blonde male frowned, narrowing his blue eyes as he shifted to keep his phone back in his pocket. He didn't even want to ask how they knew.

“He is a slut, you know? That Pines kid. He's got a reputation for sleeping ‘round. He’s bloody smart though. Releasing a book and all, and the big boys in the White House givin’ him free education.”

“Khris, I-”

“I won't say anything, Will. I know you like the brilliant kind so knock yourself out. Just stay safe... and do your damn job.”

There was a slight pause, and Bill used it to sink comfortably into the seat and crossed his arms, going over the details of his progress so far in his head. He had already practically infiltrated the heart of the whole scheme and even made their leader buy fake insurance from the law firm he wasn't even really legitimately working for. He was just passing time at this point.

“You're playing for the CIA here, try not to make us look bad. You've got a year here before we put you back in station at the Bronx and it's gonna be just that.”

Bill nodded solemnly and swallowed, wishing the seat would just eat him up because he knew he didn't need a year to call the bluff. Heck, he was William B.Cipher, he could drown the herd at the drop of a hat at this rate. But Dipper Pines, the kid who shook the world with his insightful discoveries of the teenage mind, bridging the gap between childhood ‘emotional immaturity’ and the cynicism and cyclic lethargy that came with adulthood. Bill was intrigued, and definitely hadn't planned on sleeping with him when he snuck into the party at the hotel just for free drinks.

Definitely.

It wouldn't hurt just to drag the job out a bit longer, just so he could get his fill. Khris was patient as Bill fell unnaturally silent, pausing for a moment before making puppy eyes at the rear view mirror. The older man responded with a sigh and adjusted the frame so it wouldn't catch Bill’s watery eyes and he muttered.

“I told em’ not to choose you of all people...William B. Cipher...you'd better be Glad you’ve got a brain that's worth more than every fibre in your fucking body...”

******************************

Dipper carried on with life per usual; lectures, essays and drafts for his novel. Blog posting

Some do drugs,  
Others go for a run,  
But in the end we are all just  
Searching for a way to fill the space,  
The hole  
The void  
That comes with existing,  
Sheltering us from our terrible reality.

It was a week or so since Bill last came around.

Dipper got hold of some some medical marijuana to cope with the crippling anxiety that had been settling in a lot recently. The teen had staved it off with pure will power for a while so he could actually get work done but now- it was too much to handle and he didn't really feel like Sex or alcohol right now.

He preferred not talking about his mental illness in fear of people treating him delicately; it all was from a Long time ago from when his Father hit him and his Mother was never around. Mabel would always be able to hide somewhere just in time for Dipper to distract him. It was like a game - hide and seek- with smashing of China and breaking of glass.

Deep breaths, counting from 1 to 10. Maybe 100.

The sleeping pills stopped working 2 years ago along with the anger that used to dwell deep within, and Dipper didn't really want to die from a drug overdose. Hence, Marijuana and sex with the occasional stranger was good. Tall, broad chested men with gentle smiles and kind eyes. It relaxed him, no matter how gross it may have seemed to others. He needed this. This was his coping mechanism.

But Bill.  
Bill texted him sometimes.  
But Dipper never really replied

Except once

“Why don't you ever reply my messages? :( “

“I hate texting”

Bill had called him immediately, and from then on he did so every night. Sometimes he would call during dinner time, sometimes he would leave a voice message, but he would talk to Dipper at least once a day. And every evening, even for just a few seconds, just to say good night.

“Hey Pine Tree.”

“Good night, Bill”

“Talk to me for a while…”

“No. You annoy me. A lot.”

“You could have just hung up at this point, or not picked up my call.”

Bill’s voice fell a gentle octave and Dipper felt his face grow hot. He hadn't seen Bill since their second encounter 2 weeks back. He knew where to go if he wanted to see the blonde man but he was- afraid

“....That would be...rude”

Loud, unceremonious laughter erupted in response to his quip from the other end of the line and sent an embarrassingly wide smile across Dipper’s face.

It was 11.42pm  
The teen had already been staying up that night, waiting for Bill’s call because he usually called before 8

“Ahh…I just miss the sound of your voice, Sugar pine.”

“That's really gross. Pervert.”

Bill seemed tired, after he fought out a fit of laughter.

“I want to talk about how weird Mercury in retrograde is making me feel and explain why I think Leonardo Decaprio is actually Plato.”

Dipper hummed softly in approval, really wanting to hear what Bill had to say but slumber was consuming him. The older man’s voice was a husky, deep drawl, lulling him to bed.

“I want to sleep, Bill.”

“Or how Capitalism is just a source of deviance against the minority…”

“That's a broad topic that needs context.”

“.........”

“...I want to see you, Dipper.”

“........”

“Dipper?”

************************************  
Dipper never answered Bill’s calls again after that.  
Too many conflicting emotions. Too much he didn't know yet wanted to know.

The next time Dipper saw Bill was about a week later. He was on the way back from the college and chanced upon the man clad in a eggshell yellow sweater and a pair of dark brown skinny jeans, standing by the duckpond at the edge of the park. A chain link fence and a 50 metres separated them, and Dipper continued walking to the bus stop home.

 _Hamlet spoke too wisely_  
To die  
To sleep  
to sleep  
Perchance to dream  
Because a promise  
Made in nothing  
But fluid passion  
Is brutally  
Incesteous  
Rank  
Ensemened  
Beautiful  
And deadly

His mouth was dry as he waited for the bus to arrive, somehow his gut knowing that this was wrong. Being away from Bill was wrong and he was acting like a kid again; small and terrified of everything that was good and beautiful. Dipper inhaled audibly, making the decision so dial the phone number that racked up to 42 missed calls in the past 5 days

The phone only rang once before a surprised voice echoed from the end of the line

“....Dipper?”

“Come to the bus stop. Behind the park.”

Dipper watched the yellow sweater by the pond straighten significantly and immediately spin around, revealing a tall, brooding and familiar figure that came striding forward towards the fence behind the bus stop. Bill was positively glowing; a blinding smile and his blue eyes reflecting the sunlight magnificently. Upon closer inspection though, Dipper frowned, noticing a split in the older man’s upper lip and a large bruise lining his cheekbone.

“Pine tree! Ah..it's been a while…”

Bill chimed happily, gloved hands clinging onto the chain fence behind Dipper as he began clambering up the at least 7 foot tall fence to get over to the other side.

“The park exit is a few feet down from here…”

The teen began, looking up to see the taller man scale the chain link fence like it was nothing, landing with a graceful thump beside Dipper and plonking himself on the bench. The teen looked down only to see Bill pull out a packet of bread from his back pocket as he sat down and simply explained, noticing Dipper staring

“Wasn't hungry. The ducks seemed to like it more.”

“Your face. What happened?”

Dipper hadn't meant to sound angry, but he swallowed and stared into Bill’s blue and beautiful eyes.

“Yah know, the usual...accidents..”

Bill smiled, seeing concerned lines etching themselves between Dippers brows.

“You're lying. Don't lie to me.”

Dipper retorted, this time the anger more subdued as he felt Bill’s hand creep around his waist in the most curious of ways, the black leather of his gloves crinkling as he curled his fingers comfortably into the curve of Dipper’s spine.

“Why do you care, little tree…?”

Bill seemed to be hushing him, voice calm, quiet as the occasional car whizzed past the lonely bus stop that only Dipper seemed to take home. As much as teen hated being belittled by nature, he somehow knew that Bill was asking a genuine question.

There was a still, glassy silence, before Dipper saw Bill take his own hand in his gloved ones and planted an uncertain kiss against his knuckles. As warm, bloodied lips brushed past his fingers, Dipper shuddered, those frigid, blue and icy orbs seemingly rummaging through his soul.

“Because I know nothing about you.”

“You're curious then?”

“Lawyers don't get into fights.”

“Well, human beings get into fights…”

“So you aren't going to deny it?”

“You told me not to lie to you.”

Dipper paused, the finality in Bill’s voice rendering him silent as he let the older man place his own smaller hand on his bruised face, the surface cool from the Autumn Breeze.

“Who beat you up…?”

“Oh, you should've seen state they were in; I know at least 3 forms of martial arts and hadda call them an ambulance myself…”

Bill chuckled softly, slowly scooting closer to Dipper and leaning in to briefly press his lips to the Teen’s jaw, obviously trying to change the subject. He was throwing bait, but Dipper wasn't going to bite.

“Did you file a report?”

“Trust me, I can fight my own case if they decided to sue…”

Bill hummed casually, now pressing his nose to the space under Dipper’s ear and feeling the brunet tense up slightly beneath him. The younger man swallowed before hesitantly scooting away, but only so he could minimise distance between Bill’s ravishing lips and his tender neck, wanting to continue the conversation more than anything.

“So you were jumped?”

“I Guess you could call it that. But I should have anticipated it.”  
  
Bill lamented, albeit visibly dejected at Dipper’s response to his flirtatious advancement. The younger man took note at the way Bill’s eyes fell, Long, translucent lashes fanning over his denim blue eyes.

“You know who they are. You should file a report.”

Dipper insisted, visibly pausing before resting a hand on Bill’s thigh gently, causing the Lawyer to sit up almost instantaneously.

“You know them too. I don't...think this needs the unnecessary attention.”

Bill continued dismissively, his attention predominantly jerking towards the way Dipper’s fingers slid against the muddy brown denim of his jeans.

“.....I know them?”

“It's nothing...we shouldn't press further.”

“Who?”

Dipper egged on, unintentionally gripping onto the older man’s leg as he furrowed his brow, peering at the older man keenly

“.....”

“Bill, tell me.”

The older man breathed out heavily in response, his lips pulling taut into a line as he breathed out softly.

“Do you recall that night we went to get crepes and hot chocolate…? After..well, you know.”

Bill tried, starting out slowly, but Dipper already caught on, a deep blush gracing his pale features.

“O-oh…”

“Yeah. I Guess you could say the whole jock pack came after me after I pulled you outta there. It's okay though, I'm pretty sure at least 2 of them won't be able to walk after this..”

Bill looked guilty despite the pride in his statement, tearing his eyes from Dipper as he looked to his feet, gloved hands now wringing in front of him. But that look quickly turned into one of surprise as Dipper leaned in and planted a gentle kiss to his cheek, lingering there a little longer than normal before retracting his hand from Bill’s thigh, mumbling silently.

“Thank you...I-I'm sorry…”

“It's alright. I feel better seeing that you're okay.”

Bill responded gently before pausing to think.

“Though...you could do me a favour…”

Dipper nodded slowly and raised a brow in attention, pink still highlighting his soft features, almost like a rabbit with its ears perked at the prospect of being able to do something in return.

“Dinner. Tommorow night...um..my place. Whatever you feel like havin’.”

Bill spluttered out, standing up abruptly as he heard the distant sound of Dipper’s shuttle bus arriving. He could hear his own heart pounding in his ears, the hot flush visibly returning to Dipper’s cheeks as he gawked for a few seconds, before his lips upturned into a small smile, eyes twinkling mischievously.

“Something light...and, I want to know more about you…”

Bill cleared his throat, nodding back as he tried hard to contain the happiness threatening to spill out of him. Dipper had taken a gracious step forward and tiptoed, Bill catching his hips haphazardly as the Teen pressed his lips softly to Bill’s. Dipper tasted like Chapstick and Bill tasted like custard and whiskey at 2 in the afternoon. It was warm, soft, Dipper’s soft mewl in response to Bill touch punctuating the still silence of the empty bus stop.

The shuttle had arrived with a screeching halt, and before Bill could even open his mouth to speak, Dipper had grabbed his laptop, darting up the vehicle that left the bitter scent of gasoline in the back of Bill’s throat.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyooooo I know the character Developement and the relationship may seem kinda fast but I'll address it soon enough :> sorry for the addition of a non Canon character I just needed someone to Fill in the role HAHAHA 
> 
> Sorry for the lack of le frick frack it's coming I SwEar cRie


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> O shit Son time for some domesticated vibes :> double update this week cause I've been having inspiration and timeHAHAHAH

“Wendy...Ima need you outta the apartment tonight. Stat.”

Bill hummed as he folded up the sleeves to his mustard brown T-shirt and tucked a dishcloth into the back of his grey sweatpants, wiping down the kitchen counter. He sighed as he watched the half naked redhead rise from the couch in the living room by the front door of their small apartment, the kitchen right beside it. Her head was an unruly mess of copper locks and her bra strap was haphazardly hanging off her shoulder.

“Aaaacckkk…I need a smoke…”

“That's literally all you've been doing the whole day my dear…”

Bill tsked in a gentle aside and got to work, pouring flour and yeast into a bowl before dousing the mix with water, all the while watching as Wendy dug around in his coat on the rack, searching the pockets for his cigarette tin. 

“It's in the front pocket…”

Bill relented softly after a few moments, deciding to concentrate on preparing a meal rather than getting caught up worrying about his cigarette stock. The redhead made a small trill of delight, signalling her discovery as she pulled out a joint, lighting it with the kitchen stove lighter behind Bill.

“Thank you Daddy~”

She sing-songed softly as she walked behind the older man, trailing her fingertips from the small of his back to his shoulder. The blonde man made a sound of disgust, but didn't make much of an attempt to shake her off as he spiced the dough and started work on peeling his semi-boiled tomatoes. Wendy hummed pleasantly by his ear as she watched, taking a draw from her cigarette as she rested her Chin by Bill's shoulder

“Sooooo~ you gonna tell me why I have to get my own dinner tonight and stay outta the house till 11?”

Wendy drawled, a hand gently playing with the hem of Bill’s untucked shirt as the blonde man crushed a clove of garlic beneath his knife.

“I've got a guest coming over. And it's a boy so you'd better put some clothes on if you aren't leaving any time soon.”

Bill responded softly, gently shrugging the young woman off as he made his way to the stove top and set a brass pot on the gas. 

“Ah~ well if it's the boy you always go on about that has come for your ‘brilliant personality’ I'm sure he wouldn't mind now would he..”

She laughed, slipping round the counter to enter her room. Bill rolled his eyes, smiling slightly at the thought of being able to see Dipper again. He had texted the boy that he would come pick him up, but the brunet had insisted on finding his own way here.

The apartment complex was rather run down and out of the way, but the CIA had decided that the rent was cheap and 3 rooms were enough. So Bill was assigned to stay with his fellow colleague and close Friend Wendy, who was assigned to do the behind the scenes hacking and tracking while Bill went in all Gung-ho. The entrance conveniently outlooked the entire shared space, which consisted of a small living room stuffed with a rundown couch and a television and the kitchen right beside that with a bar counter for eating. There was a shared bathroom in the hall and two separate bedrooms for each of them, both fitted with rundown, but soft, queen sized mattresses. Bill had won the game of Rock Paper Scissors and scored the room with a tiny balcony out looking the rest of the city.

“Mmm~ is that what you're gonna wear for your big night in?”

Wendy laughed as she walked out her room moments later in flannel dress and a leather jacket, complete with knee high leg warmers and Chelseas, heels clacking as she took one last draw of her cigarette and dumped it in the ashtray by the sink. 

“Well, no, I'm covered in flour and smell like yeast so I Guess I'll change out after this-”

“Don't. I think it's sexy, a man that can cook, that is. Though, I think you're forgetting your bow tie.” 

Wendy teased and fixed her hair briefly in the mirror, pulling out a bobby pin just as Bill put his bread in the oven. The older man groaned softly and got his tomatoes out of the pan, canting his hips as he placed the pan on the table.

“I'm just joking…Just don't be too formal.”

Wendy chuckled, seeing Bill’s obvious discomfort in her judging his fashion choice. But just as he was about to open his mouth to retort, a knock came at the door.

“Huh...speak of the devil…”

Wendy hummed as she peeped into the mail slot and saw a younger man dressed in a Woollen black sweater and grey skinny jeans, hair a rumpled mess and flushed cheeks obscured by a light brown scarf. 

“I think it's your date...see ya!” 

She laughed in a way that was almost melodic and opened the door for Dipper before sashaying out herself, blowing a kiss to a rather flustered Bill who now struggled to look somewhat presentable

“No Wendy-- ack…”

Bill managed before he saw Dipper walk in, eyes slightly widened as the redhead smoothly made her exit and shut the door behind him, the teen now standing awkwardly at the doormat with a tousled head of chestnut hair, Hands nervously wringing with his sleeves as he managed in a small peep 

“Hi. Sorry I...this place was closer to school than I had anticipated…” 

Dipper explained briefly, a small smile forming as he saw how Bill was covered in specks of flour and the kitchen counter was a bit of an Organised mess. The taller blonde quickly dusted off his shirt, only for Dipper to notice the bruises and the ugly cuts, reddened marks littering Bill’s gorgeous pianist fingers and the broad expanse of his palms. 

“Ahh.. it's alright! I was just a bit surprised, come in, come in!” 

Bill chimed happily, face lighting up at the very thought that Dipper would be around a little longer than he had planned. The teen swallowed, eyeing Bill’s battered hands and recalling how and why black leather must have obscured his digits every time he had seen Bill after their first night together. 

“I'm sorry, the food might not be ready till the next hour or so-”

“It's fine, I came early anyways”

Dipper responded gently, taking off his Boots and hanging up his scarf with a small whistle. As Bill watched him, the Kettle suddenly went off, causing the older man to blink and busy himself at the stove, Dipper slipping into the kitchen and pressing up against Bill’s side gently. 

“Hey. It's okay...relax.”

Dipper mumbled softly upon seeing Bill’s evident distress, causing The man to release the tension in his body, looking over to the teen with a gentle smile, resting a hand in his head of brown locks, saying nothing more than heaving a soft sigh in relief. 

There was a moment of comfortable silence that came after the storm that was the first 5 minutes of Dipper’s arrival, Dipper’s cold feet inching across the tiles to rest on Bill’s warmer ones before he spoke up

“That girl...she's pretty hot.”

He stated more matter of factly that anything as he watched Bill’s face for a reaction. So when Bill spluttered, face turning a strange shade of what could have been green as he gagged, Dipper laughed softly in amusement 

“Oh god, no Wendy is just my roommate. I told her to leave so we could...have a quiet time I Guess.”

The blonde mumbled as he busied himself with clearing the counter, Dipper training behind him quietly to help out. After a while, all that was left to do was wait for the food to cook, and Bill stood awkwardly in the centre of the kitchen, hands itching for something to do. 

“Your hands.”

Dipper broke the silence first in a gentle voice, taking one of the bruised appendages in his hands before looking up to the taller man

“You didn't have to beat them up THAT hard..”

He mumbled, gently tracing a thumb over a freshly bruised knuckle and pressing carefully along Bill’s tendons. 

“I had to. They were coming hard at me.”

Bill chuckled as he let Dipper trace the grooves and scaring across the Tan skin of his hands and palms. 

“What about this…?”

Dipper tried carefully, tracing a Long scar that ran across the entirety of Bill’s right palm, earning a small shudder from the taller blonde. There was a small space of hesitation before Bill opened his mouth to speak.

“I had a little accident a few years back.”

His answer was ambiguous, and Dipper decided to strike it off as just one of those things you weren't exactly supposed to ask someone on their first date. This was a date. Right?

“Would ya like something to drink? I'll go get changed.”

Bill had cleared his throat, clearly changing the subject as he withdrew and pulled out 2 mugs from the cabinet.

“I'll have some tea if that's okay. It's been a Long day for me..” 

Dipper sighed softly, feeling strangely comfortable in a stranger’s house. Even the cool tiles beneath his feet seemed so ominous and uncertain compared to the fluffy yet scratchy carpets of his own home. There was little furniture, thin curtains and no pictures on the walls. Strange, but was somewhat to be expected since Bill Had just moved in a few weeks ago. 

“Sure, I've got some Ceylon orange peel red tea that's sure to make ya feel better” 

Bill chuckled happily and got a Mug prepared for Dipper in no time, Dipper watching with a small smile at the way Bill seemed to dance across the kitchen area.

“I'll head off to change into something a bit more presentable...Then you can tell me all about how your day went.”

Just as he stopped by Dipper to pass him his drink, the younger of the two placed a hand on Bill’s bare forearm, stopping him in his hurry to get dressed.

“....I think Wendy was right. A man who can cook is sexy.” 

Dipper quoted, grinning as he saw the way Bill’s face registered in slight shock, realising that Dipper had heard some of his conversation with Wendy before he even knocked. His chestnut eyes flickered with what could have been anything from mischief to lust, Bill wasn't quite certain, but he swore he felt his chest grow hot as Dipper smiled and drew him in slowly for a kiss that made his toes tingle.

“You look good in a T-shirt too...let up a little Mr. Lawyer..”

********************************

Bill had returned shortly after a quick shower, with his hair once again neatly gelled back, clad in a dark yellow cotton button up that was folded up to his lower bicep and a pair of loose grey harem pants. As he adjusted his collar, he looked up to see Dipper with a journal out on the counter, scrawling on it intently and counting something on his fingers. Deciding to give him the space, Bill went over to the oven to pull out the thyme and rosemary bread he had been baking and set it out on the counter to cool. While glancing to his watch, Bill took note on how there was still half an hour till their arranged dinner time and got himself a can of lite beer from the fridge before plonking himself down on the bar stool next to Dipper. He whipped out his phone and decided to run over the data recovered from the motion sensors near the port today and immediately silenced his phone as he saw the frantic messages of Khris pop up, chastising him for not handing in his daily report for the evening. Beside him, the chair creaked, and Bill looked up to see the curious brown eyes of his younger counterpart. 

“When is your birthday, Bill? If you don't mind me asking..?”

“Hahaha, why don’t you take a guess?”

“You feel like an Aries to me.”

“Then an Aries i shall be!” 

Bill laughed softly, pouring his beer into his ceramic Mug as Dipper’s inquisitive gaze searched him.

“You don’t have a birthdate?”

“Was born on the street kiddo. DNA testing says i'm 22 though, still not old enough to be your dad so, in case you were wondering…”

“O-oh, gosh...i see..”

Dipper said, a slight blush gracing his features at his unknowingly insensitive question. He slowly started realising how much he somehow couldn't find out about this man, one way or another. He was hitting landmine after landmine.

“Hey, it's fine, Dipper. I really don’t have a past to hang on to. I'm just glad i got a second chance.”

Bill smiled warmly and hesitantly placed a battered hand on Dipper’s thigh, the teen laughing softly in response. 

“Hahaha, i kinda thought you were older than that…but that’s okay. Age is just a number.”

“And Time is a Human construct..?”

Bill continued as he raised a brow, feeling Dipper’s smaller hand creep to rest on his own.

“Exactly.”

Dipper said with finality, raising his mug of tea to Bill with his free hand, signalling a ceremonial cheers at their shared view. 

“Buy gold!”

Bill chuckled and clinked his mug against the white ceramic of the 19-year old’s one, earning him a bout of small laughter from the younger man, whose eyes curled up into happy crescents despite the heavy bags beneath them.

Bill smiled wider than he intended to, and knew that this was definitely his undoing.

*************************

“Bruschetta with leek and cabbage soup.”

Dipper noted, rather impressed as Bill plated their meal and brought it to the kitchen counter, the older man then humming in acknowledgement at the Teen’s proclamation.

“It's not much, but I had work till late today so-”

“Bill Cipher, you made your own fucking bread.”

Dipper laughed, albeit a bit too heartily as he wobbled on the barstool.

“That's actually unbelievable...I came here expecting takeout.”

The Teen admitted cheerfully and looked up at the taller blonde who had slid into the seat beside him and smiled sheepishly, not really meeting Dipper’s eye. 

“I cook every night, so this isn't much...you could come over again- that is if you like my cooking and...um”

Bill swallowed the rest of his sentence as he found that he was almost getting ahead of himself, but was instead greeted by a rather excited Dipper.

“Aww really!? That would be amazing…home cooked food, that is.”

“You mean you don't cook meals at home?”

Bill asked incredulously, sitting up as he took a swig of his beer, watching as Dipper nodded and poked at the bread on his plate.

“Grunkle stan and ford can’t cook for Nuts and Mabel is busy running the store with them most of the time. Mabel and I can sorta cook but it's just...time. Effort. tired.”

There seemed to be more to what Dipper had meant by that, but Bill didn't push the envelope. Instead, he leaned in slightly to the younger man and planted a gentle kiss to the side of his head, before leaving one more to the corner of his mouth 

“It's okay. We all have different important things to do Everyday...tell you what, I'll come over and Cook for your family if you ever want me to. How about that?” 

Dipper shuddered, because there it was again, that soft, warm, seemingly belittling voice that made Dipper feel like he was a kid all over again, but yet brought him warmth in the most strange and comforting of ways.

“Yeah...I think everyone would like that.” 

Dipper managed after a few moments of unnatural silence, earning a deep chuckle from the older man who then proceeded to dig into his meal, a comfortable silence now settling over the room.

Eating with a stranger;  
Cold weather  
Ominous clinking of alcohol in ceramic  
Mugs  
Frost bitten window panes  
Orange peel  
Red  
Tea

Dipper picked the spiced tomatoes off his bread and ate them separately just because he wanted to clearly taste the bread and every element of the meal that Bill had made just for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyooooo sorry for the fragmented ending!!! It was getting a bit too Long sobs I needed to cut it short
> 
> Also I'm kinda of a troll lmao u can see where I insert dumb references that I laugh about to myself. In the dark. Of my room. Eating cookies I made. For myself. Alone. Lmao instead of doing math 
> 
> Also sorry for the random insertion of Wendy HHAHAHA it will just help the plot move on later I guess  
> Aahahhhhhh Bill is so mysterious god bless I can't wait for the plot to thicken mwaaahahaheverythingisgoingtogotoshitthischapteristhelastofthegoodvibesbuygoldbyeeeeee


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some hot action soooOoo

“That was...the best meal I've probably eaten in a year.”

Dipper came to a conclusion after some thought, the blonde man giving a small chuckle in response as he stretched, happy that something so simple could make Dipper satisfied.

“I'm Glad you enjoyed it.”

Bill hummed and stood up to briefly clear the plates, hearing the chair beside him creak as Dipper’s quiet footsteps trailed behind him. Just as he placed the ceramics in the sink, he felt a pair of arms around his waist, Dipper nuzzling his nose to the back of Bill’s left shoulder blade.

“You’re too nice to me Bill…”

“I find you very attractive, Pine tree; you’re giving me the benefit of doubt..”

Bill teased softly as he turned on the sink and reached for the sponge, only to feel Dipper’s cooler hand slip up under the back of his cotton button up, fingertips trailing along the small of his back. The Taller man shuddered by reflex and visibly stilled, letting the smaller man of 3 inches trace small patterns against his warm skin.

“It's going to be 10 soon, little tree. We should get you home before it gets too dark..”

Bill explained as he dried his hands and turned to see Dipper behind him, still holding on to the hem of his button up rather stubbornly.

“What if i said I really wanted to spend more time with you right now…”

Dipper tried, flushing hard as his brain racked up millions of excuses that all didn't quite make much sense in bringing across what he was trying to say.

“I would say your Grunkle would greet me with a shotgun and none of us want that.”

Bill laughed, trying to lighten the sexual tension that was now heavy in the atmosphere, so thick is almost suffocated any room for any other topic of discourse.

“My grunkle said it's okay as Long as I let him know I'll be late...I have the key anyways..”

Dipper argued with little bark, more bite, trying hard to get Bill to put 2 and 2 together.

“He speaks, tis such sense, that my sense breeds with it. Fare you well.”

Bill exclaimed dramatically, gently bending over to plant a kiss to Dipper’s nose, then his lips, humming softly as the teen looped his arms around his neck and kissed him back briefly before mumbling against his lips

“I swear, if you are quoting Angelo from Shakespeare's Measure for Measure to send me off…”

Bill grinned, pecking Dipper once more on the lips as he responded

“It seems we are both the kinds of literature students that memorise the optional quotes…”

There was a soft silence as Dipper turned away slightly, Bill mouthing his neck gently, the sharp bridge of his cold nose nuzzling to Dipper’s jaw affectionately. The teen swallowed, lips parted with a small sigh of content as he mumbled

“I'll text my Grunkle...wait…”

He let Bill lead him to the cosy living room couch as he pulled out his phone and texted an ‘I'm not coming home tonight. Lock up. I have the keys” To his Grunkle, just in case he came back too late, and he didn't want his family to wait up on him either.

“Mm...let me know if ya need to rush back, I'll call you a cab…”

Bill’s palm had traveled to his inner thigh at this point, voice deep and breath warm against Dipper’s nape as he silently made plans to where he would leave a Hickey if the opportunity presented itself. But the younger boy had other plans, placing his phone down on the coffee table before swinging a leg over into Bill’s lap and tilting his Chin up for a kiss, to which the older man responded with a surprised hum. Hoisting the younger man into his lap almost simultaneously, Bill rested a hand on Dipper’s thigh, slipping it around to his bum as the kiss deepened, Dipper sucking softly on Bill’s lower lip. Bill gave a Low groan as he felt Dipper’s wandering hands drop from his chest right down to his crotch, touch curious and fleeting across the slackness of his joggers. Dipper felt Bill prod at his lips with his tongue and granted him access, shuddering as Bill’s explicit tongue lightly tousled with his own, tasting like sweet beer and everything that was right. Kissing Bill was like nothing Dipper ever felt before, because his free hand was on the back of Bill’s neck, slowly directing the wet kisses and using it as leverage to drag his hips up Bill’s leg. Everything was so good and warm and Dipper thought he might pass out just from the lightheadedness that came from tilting his Chin and having their lips fit together like puzzle pieces.

Bill felt his phone vibrate incessantly in his front pocket. It had been going off continuously for a while now, the dull hum that of which didn't go unnoticed by Dipper as the teen pulled away slightly to breathe. His lips were reddened and his pale face flushed, hair a tousled mess as he panted softly, wordlessly motioning for Bill to answer. The older man let out a soft sigh of frustration, a tight lipped smile forming apologetically as he answered the call without even taking a second glance at the caller ID.

“What Khris.”

“William, you need to stop fucking around there and get your report done. Do your job before you get your dick sucked. I ain't coverin’ for ya!”

Dipper swallowed, the voice on the end of the line was gruff and angry. Even though he couldn't really hear what it was saying, he assumed it had to be important, as Bill pinched his brow bone with a disgruntled moan.

“Yeah yeah...I'll get it done by 1159 tonight, promise.”

“Don't fucking promise me shit when you've got that Slut all over you at your quarters. I want that report done tonight, you hear?”

Bill was silent for a good few seconds, sucking in a deep breath as his piercing blue eyes scoured Dipper, causing the younger teen to tilt his head with concern. Dipper didn't know much about Bill, but he appeared visibly upset as the voice hollered at him again, but his reply was calm and solemn.

“Yes sir.”

“Good. And bloody get the kid home. It's late.”

The line was dropped and Bill sighed audibly, tilting his head back against the headrest of the couch with what appeared to be resignation. Looking down awkwardly, Dipper paused before slowly shimmying off the older man, causing Bill to sit up abruptly with at the loss of the warmth in his lap.

“Bill...I- thank you, I'm sorry about insisting on staying, I didn't know you had work to do…”

Dipper stumbled out, obviously frazzled and slightly embarrassed. Bill could tell by the way he stood with his legs crossed slightly that Dipper had been expecting much more.

“N-no.. it's nothing. Just my boss hounding me for an overdue report for something insignificant. He can live without it…”

Bill explained cautiously as he met Dipper’s eyes, knowing how sharp Dipper could be and how he knew the teen would call him out immediately on bullshit. He smiled a lopsided smile, shoulders slumping in defeat as he kinda guessed the mood was killed anyways before he proffered softly

“I...I feel bad keeping you out so late too...I should probably bring you home, kiddo.”

Bill stood up slowly, stretching slightly before feeling a tug on his shirt again, only to see Dipper, face redder than ever as he looked down and swallowed audibly.

“You make that sound like I don't have the ability to make my own decisions about where I want to be, Bill...”

The older blonde paused before smiling as the air of mutual understanding of that statement hit him, his voice gentle as he asked softly

“So where do you wanna be Pine Tree..?”

Dipper shuddered, the tightness in his pants not helping as Bill spoke in that smooth, mild tone yet again that made him putty.h

“With you. I don't want to go home…”

Dipper whispered softly, hands wringing tighter around Bill’s shirt before he continued.

“I don’t...need sex. I just…”

“Okay Sugar pine…”

Bill cut him off softly as he saw the way Dipper seemed to get more visibly stressed by the second while grappling with his indecision. Bill wrapped his arms around him and planted a gentle kiss to his forehead, feeling the teen gradually reach around to hug him back. As they settled into a comfortable silence, Dipper broke away first and pushed Bill away playfully, clearing his throat in what must have been embarassment.

“Okay, but first, your report…”

**************************

Dipper spent the rest of the evening with his laptop plugged into the socket near the bar counter. Bill had given him a clean sweater and some comfortable pyjama pants to put on for the night, not outwardly questioning at all why Dipper had 3 extra sets of underwear in his bag at all times.

“Ahh, Fuck...My keys...Bill!”

Came a shrill voice from the door just as Dipper was about to get a glass of water to drink, causing him to almost drop the Mug in the sink. Bill was in the shower at the time, so Dipper quietly slipped to the front door and unlocked it for the Woman he knew as Wendy, stepping aside as she came through the door like a hurricane and slammed it shut behind her.

“My god, Bill you wouldn't believe the nerve of some of the folks out here they- Oh, Hello…”

She had kicked off her boots and leg warmers and was hanging up her jacket before she noticed Dipper standing at the door, awkwardly folding up the sleeves to Bill’s large beige sweater.

“Hi.”

“You're still here! Hahaha at least he hasn't chased you away…Dipper right? I'm Wendy.”

Wendy smiled widely, demeanour changing into something bright as she saw how Dipper was positively Swimming in Bill’s clothing, pale features dusted a light pink. The teen nodded with a shy smile, making his way back to the counter to continue with his work as Wendy busied herself around the living room. Bill had stepped out of the bathroom a few minutes later, clad in a pair of black sweatpants and nothing else, hair dripping wet and for the first time unstyled.

“Wendy, it's almost midnight, you could have given the Neighbours some peace…”

Bill muttered, walking over to the small set up in the living room which consisted of a monitor and a printer.

“Yeah yeah, you're welcome for finishing some of your report for you while I was on the way back on the shuttle while you were busy getting your gay dick sucked.”

Wendy laughed in a silent sing-song, just loud enough for The blonde man to hear, causing Bill to groan softly as he sat back into the chair and continued the report.

“Firstly, I haven't had my dick sucked since I was in the basement during your 18th birthday 4 years ago- and secondly...thank you. Can't live without you, Bitch.”

Bill commented dryly as he focused on finishing up the data comparison.  
Wendy hummed, taking her cue to leave with a grin and made her way to the shower, already peeling off her dress as she walked down the hall, much to Dipper’s shock

“Anything for you, Daddy!”

She said loudly before entering the bathroom silently, the water running now only the sound in the room.

11.42pm

“....and done. Perfect. Just in time..Khris you motherfucker...”

Bill muttered quietly under his breath, leaning back in the chair as he propped a finger under his Chin and pressed send. Sighing in relief, the blonde man turned briefly to See Dipper with his things already kept back into his bag, laying with his head in his arms on the counter. Bill smiled. How vulnerable. As the older man walked over, Dipper roused and sat up, looking over the bare chested man blankly before swallowing and immediately averting his eyes.

“You ready to sleep then?”

Bill asked kindly, smiling as Dipper nodded briefly and got up to stand, looking at his feet

“S-sorry...I kinda dozed off..”

Bill tilted his head slightly at Dipper’s rather uncharacteristic reply, but not giving it much thought as he leaned over to brush his lips across Dipper’s forehead, noticing the multiple small moles beneath his fringe. The younger man shuddered slightly in response, reaching for one of Bill’s forearms and holding on to him hesitantly in relative silence, feel the warmth in his palm of another human being and the way Bill’s muscles shifted beneath his skin.

Wordlessly, Bill began walking towards his bedroom, hearing the soft, padded sound of Dipper’s footsteps trailing behind him. Dipper took note of Bill’s large strides in comparison to his own, the dark grey that was his room and the smooth, cold wood of the floor. Everything was so drab, so cold and so unlike whatever Dipper had expected it to be.

“Here, get in…”

Bill proffered gently and pulled back the covers for Dipper before turning around to turn on the heater for the room, hearing the sheets jostle behind him as Dipper sunk under the covers.

“I'll be right out on the couch if you need anything...so don't worry and sleep well..”

Bill sighed with a soft chuckle as he saw the way The teen pulled the covers up slightly to his Chin.

“That defeats the purpose of me staying over, now doesn't it…”

Dipper mumbled softly as he looked at Bill, shifting all the way to the other side of the bed to welcome him. The taller male bit his lower lip, hesitating slightly before scratching his bare chest and slipping under the covers stiffly. He paused, looking to Dipper who had already closed his eyes, before switching off the lamp by the bedside table, the darkness consuming them as an awkward air of comfort settled. Bill could feel the tips of Dipper’s cold toes brushing past the back of his calf as he had his back turned to the younger male. In the quiet of the night, moonlight filtered in through the windows, casting perfect shadows onto every groove on Bill’s Tattooed back.

“Bill...you're ethnicity- you weren't from here...were you?”

Dipper drawled softly, tone careful as he started gently tracing his fingertips along the black patterns inked onto Bill's back. He slowly outlined the fine cursive neatly stamped onto the top of Bill’s back just below an Image of a third eye, humming curiously.

“Vida Mágica…”

The teen mumbled softly as he then rested his free hand on Bill’s waist comfortingly to stop him from Turning around immediately at that.

“Life is Magical. Spanish Mafia…’La eMe’?”

Dipper continued, running his hand up Bill’s Spine to the 3rd eye inked on the back of his neck, a capital ‘M’ in the centre of the Iris marking Bill as one of the members of the most active Mexican Mafias in the United States. Dipper could see the muscles on the older man’s back clench with trepidation, and he slowly soothed a hand across the bronzed surface, seeing so many more cryptic symbols scrawled in a circle around an image of the all seeing eye, but Dipper knew better than to assume Bill's was in the illuminati. He bravely scooted closer as he noticed Bill was unnaturally silent, pressing a Lingering kiss to the back of Bill’s neck where the third eye stared through a glassy depth.

“.....I think the fact that you chose that quote to define your place at the time is really beautiful, Bill. I'm sorry if it was tough for you, growing up and all, just…”

Dipper trailed off, lost in the thoughts he had, the many quotes littered Bill’s back in crypts and analogies; Bill’s skin was like a bible, verse after verse that kept on giving.

“Know that it's okay. You're a good guy Bill…”

Dipper finally managed and slid his hand off Bill’s back, watching as Bill turned around to face him, a small smile plastered on his handsome face, his hair mussed up and blue eyes glinting in the moonlight.

“me trajeron aquí de España...vivimos aquí ilegalmente.”

(They brought me here from Spain, we lived here illegally.)

Dipper laughed softly as a smooth string of Spanish left Bill’s lips, complete with native tongue. The aesthetic surprisingly suited him; platinum blonde hair, Latino upbringing and being ripped as heck in general, yet gentle, agile and lean.The younger teen carefully cupped the side of Bill,s face, his own smile causing the older man to grin in what must have been delight.

“You aren't still in the Mafia now...right?”

Dipper said quietly as Bill then proceeded to place his own bruised hand ontop of Dipper’s that was cupping his face, kissing the teen’s wrist briefly before muttering

“Si, mi Pino”  
(Yes, My Pine tree)

“I've never been so grateful for taking spanish classes in high school till now.”

Dipper chuckled, this time clearly more relieved as Bill smiled wider, relaxed and appreciative of the light banter.

“Preferirías que hable en español?”  
(Would you rather I speak in Spanish?)

Bill’s voice had fallen an octave, and Dipper felt his heart skip a beat.

“It's sexy, I'm not going to deny that…”

Dipper admitted with a smile so big it made his cheeks hurt, closing his eyes slightly as Bill leaned over to briefly kiss him. His larger hand held Dipper’s on his cheek as he gently moved his lips against the teen’s, growling softly when he felt the younger male nip playfully at his lower lip. As they pulled away briefly for air, Bill swallowed, looking down at the boy he had fallen so hard for, unable to think straight or make his position or anything clear to himself at that moment in time.

“God...I think I'm in love with you.”

Bill’s voice was soft, burdened with some form of guilt, expression ridden with contrite as he spluttered out a laugh, turning his face away slightly as Dipper leaned closer to him, almost curling up against his chest. It was as if the proclamation was to only assuage the concern he had felt about his feelings towards Dipper. So as the younger boy flushed a shade of dark pink and drew his lower lip between his teeth, Bill sucked in a deep breath and simply combed the younger boy’s fringe from his forehead.

“Sorry… I just needed you to hear that and tell that to myself as well…”

“I-it's fine...I'm not sure how I feel entirely but…”

Dipper responded softly and placed Bill’s free hand on his waist, tilting his head up to look at the older blonde.

“You're kind and smart, really funny and weird, you are nice to me and I'm here now in your bed and in your clothes and you haven't even asked for Sex...I think I at least like you, a lot, Bill.”

At that, Bill paused slightly and planted a small kiss to Dipper’s head, earning a small, pleasant hum of delight from the younger male, who then intertwined his cold toes between Bill’s calves.

“Night night Pine tree.”

Bill simply said in response, voice gentle and brimming with some form of pride Dipper couldn't quite comprehend.

“Goodnight, Bill.”

“I'll see you in your dreams.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhhhhhhh okay so I love the Human AU where Bill is a Spanish boy okay and I haven't seen many fics like that(?) and yes, I'm aware that this could be a Colour blind story and that in America a race is a problem, but hey I wanna fill it with Colour and this story is not racist it is simply diverse (anyone else watches Caleb Gallo lmao) 
> 
> But yesss holy shit Bill's backstory is my life and everything is going to turn around and bite him in the butt because of what he is doing playing with Dipper's heart like this Grrr 
> 
> Also make room for new shitty references in every chapter lalalallalalalala the more u understand them the better tbh
> 
> Also more importantly Bill in this fic is about 6 foot (1.82m) while Dipper is about 5"7 feet (1.70m) :>


	7. Chapter 7

Dipper awoke the next morning to the sound of a phone vibrating against the bedside table repeatedly. It seemed to have been going off for a while now and Dipper knew his cell had been stashed in his backpack on the kitchen counter. Cracking open an eyelid, Dipper saw Bill’s phone vibrate vigorously on the wood table, the older man still peacefully sleeping beside him, a loose arm thrown lazily over his waist. Just sitting up slightly, Dipper could see the screen;53 missed calls, and the time was 6am.

“Bill...wake up..”

Dipper called softly in a rushed but hushed tone, gently shaking the older man by the shoulder as he slid out from under his arm.

“Hnn…”

Bill groaned slightly, rousing slightly as he felt the bed dip as Dipper got off it

“You've got 53...54 missed calls..”

The teen yawned as he quickly shucked off the pants Bill had lent him and pulled on his grey Skinny jeans from the day before, albeit reluctant to return the beige sweater. Dipper turned to see Bill get out of bed, hair a mess and blue eyes heavy with sleep as he grabbed the phone from its charging port and swallowed upon seeing the caller ID.

“What…”

“Morning Daddy~ I knew you would ignore my texts so I just kept calling. I hope y'all fucked like rabbits last night.”

Wendy drawled from across the line, the sound of wind whipping resounding from the background. Bill gave a small sigh before smiling, watching as Dipper fixed his hair in the mirror, folding up the sleeves to his oversized sweater.

“We didn't. What's up…”

“Wow you're in a good mood nonetheless...well basically, Khris has already found a pattern in our data and wants to call for the arrest by the end of the week. He told me to tell you, good work, a case closed quickly as per usual.”

Wendy chirped, mimicking their senior’s gruff British accent.

“Wait, woahwoahwoahwoah ..I haven't listed out any of the suspects yet, what arrest?”

At this, Dipper turned, seeing concern etch itself onto Bill’s tired expression. He looked perplexed, confused even as he ran a hand over his face.

“Khris said he already did background checks on the people you have been surveying with the cameras in the bar. You know how you usually conduct your investigations and all right? Ya talk to different people, look see, this and that. He got it figured out cause they slipped up and the alibis matched up with our data from the docks. Don't worry, I'm out here now double checking the cameras for tonight's test for our hypothesis….Bill are you listening?”

The phone was shut off and Bill sucked in a deep breath before standing up, walking to the sink to wash his face. Dipper swallowed, mildly concerned as Bill seemed unnaturally distant. He padded over to the bathroom to see Bill with his torso over the sink, checking for a stubble in the mirror.

“Bill...is everything okay?”

Dipper asked softly, peeping in through the doorway and prompting the older man to turn to face him with a tight lipped smile

“Ye-yeah...Sorry that woke you, just a client…”

“Um…”

“Don't worry, it's nothing too important”

Dipper raised an eyebrow, watching as Bill stripped down to his boxers before pulling on a neat white shirt hanging from the bathroom rack and slathering on deodorant etc… before slicking his blonde hair back and rinsing his mouth out with mouthwash. It all happened under less than 2 minutes, and Bill was back out into his room and pulling up a pair of black slacks and blue yellow rubber ducky patterned socks. Dipper smiled, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorframe, Bill now clipping on a pair of yellow ochre suspenders.

“For ‘nothing too important’ you do seem to be in a hurry…”

Dipper teased softly and walked over to make the bed, laughing a bit as he saw Bill pause to look at him, a single strand of hair out of place.

“Ah...well…”

“It's okay. Go, I'll make my way back as soon as you leave. I don't have anywhere to be today anyways.”

Dipper assured and beamed up to the older man as Bill made his way over, planting a kiss to his nose. He smelt good for someone who didn't have the time to take a shower, and Dipper tried to remember the brand of cologne he saw on the dresser.

“No, we can take an Uber there, I'll drop you off..”

Bill smiled and seemed to relax significantly, grabbing his phone and keys before beckoning Dipper forward yet again

“You look good in my sweater…”

The teen blushed, smoothing out the pullover meekly as the sleeves fell past his fingertips

“Keep it.”

Bill said softly, voice falling deep as he brushed the hair from Dipper’s brown, curious eyes. But the tender moment was broken as Bill’s phone rang yet again, silently in his pocket and he excused himself, signalling Dipper to get ready.

“Yes, we will be down in a few minutes…”

Bill managed to answer his phone as he went to put on his black oxfords, struggling with the heel before opening the front door for both himself and Dipper. The teen eyed him suspiciously, drinking in the sight of a full grown man, a lawyer even, not bringing anything to work except his phone and wallet and keys. He paused to give his lingering doubts some thought, adjusting his bag strap and folding up his scarf in his arms, looking down at the way Bill’s sweater reached past his thighs.

Bill got off his phone as soon as the lift arrived and he sucked in a deep breath, almost like a fish gasping for oxygen before looking down to Dipper and smiling apologetically

“Sorry for the rush so early in the morning…”

“I Guess Lawyers shouldn't be fooling around on a weeknight huh, Mr Cipher.”

Dipper sing songed jokingly, smiling as Bill chuckled, grinning down at him with a Cheshire smile

“You can lecture me later Dr Pines…"

************************

Dipper took note of how the Uber was a black Mercedes with no number plate, but such was the United States and he was pretty sure Bill knew what to do in almost any situation. As Bill opened the door and ushered Dipper in, the Teen felt a strong, oppressive air almost suffocate him, forcing the quip he was about to make about Bill’s Gentlemanly action down his throat.

“To the Mystery shack please.”

Bill politely instructed and got into the back seat with Dipper, having looked up where Dipper stayed when the teen had asked him for directions to his house. Dipper swallowed, noticing how the uber driver was immaculately clad in a black suit and had shades on, working a black beanie as his fingers drummed the dashboard patiently

Noticing the smaller male’s relative silence as the car started moving, Bill placed a comforting gloved hand on his thigh and tilted his chin up slightly with a free hand, giving the younger man a small smile.

“Que esta mal, Mi Amor?”  
(What's wrong my love?)

He whispered gently, still playing on with the gag from the night before, eliciting a small snigger from Dipper who seemed to loosen up a little.

“Nothing...I just. Thank you. For everything.”

“Oue, you say that like you'll never see me again.”

Bill whined slightly but chuckled as he scooted closer to Dipper, making sure the door was locked behind the teen before closing in on him behind the driver’s seat. Bill’s leathered hand slid Further up Dipper’s thigh and the teen held back a yelp, swallowing slightly as he met Predatory blue eyes once more, Bill’s handsome face inching closer to his own.

“Bill… no..”

Dipper said softly at first as Bill nuzzled his cold nose to his jaw, only to be pushed away by the younger boy, a hot flush trailing across Dipper’s pale features.

“We-we’re in public...not like this, please..”

The teen managed, placing a hand on Bill’s mouth and pushing him back gently to his original seated position, causing the older man to keen slightly but comply, nodding and sitting upright next to him. It took a few moments for Dipper to calm down again, feeling kinda bad because Bill was just trying to make him feel safer. Pressing a kiss to Bill’s cheek, Dipper quickly looked down at his lap and spoke up

“I-I...um..I'm free Thursday night...so, maybe we could go somewhere or something..I-if your work allows it of course…”

He could feel Bill’s curious eyes on him and he looked up, almost imagining a tail swishing around happily as Bill Perked up and grinned happily, the car now turning the corner up to the mystery shack.

“It's a date. I'll make myself free..”

Bill assured as the car pulled to a halt and Dipper sighed, pausing slightly before leaning up to kiss Bill. He grabbed Bill’s collar briefly so as to deepen it the kiss for a moment longer, effectively shifting Bill’s black bow tie out of place before pulling away

“Goodbye Papi”

Came Dipper’s voice just above a Whisper, sending a shiver down every vertebrae of Bill’s spine in the best of ways, his pupils visibly dilating within his lightly coloured irises. And In Dipper’s usual breathtaking fashion, he left the car and closed the door with a slam before Bill could get a word in edgewise.

“Holy shit, that was hot.”

Came a whistle from the front seat as Khris removed his sunglasses, adjusting the rear view mirror yet again so he could get a better look at the Spanish man in the back seat who looked like he was about to get hit by a truck.

“He can be sexy and keep you under his thumb...now that's a quality you need in your life William.”

Khris laughed heartily and started up the engine once more, turning up the radio slightly as Bill sighed heavily and groaned, resting his head against the backrest.

“Fuck..!.what have I gotten myself into…”

Bill exclaimed, albeit a bit too loudly, swallowing harshly as Khris raised an eyebrow in question, demanding further context.

“And Khris, you told me we had a year. A year! It's only been 5 months since we arrived?I haven't even released the details of the suspects yet? Why do we have a warranted arrest?”

Bill hissed, voice desperate as the older man immediately tuned out the radio, heaving a soft sigh.

“We don't need many specific details in this case. Their underground work was sloppy and it was a Lower Budget shipping than we expected…We are the CIA and you are one of our most efficient spies. We finish jobs asap, boy. Your data was clean and well Organised as per usual, and we infiltrated this small town druggy business fast and without casualties.”

Khris’s voice was gentle, as if he understood the tender side of this issue and wanted to make that very clear to Bill.

“Will, you've only known him for about a month and a half. Don't tell me you've already fallen so hard you can't pick yer self back up anymore…? He is a bloody teenager with daddy issues. You've already read through his full case file.”

Khris said patiently but sighed, somewhat knowing Bill’s dilemma.

“Listen, Kid, He’ll probably go find another dick to ride after you're gone...don't leave Yer heart in this shithole Gravity Falls…”

His statement was more of an exclamation that anything and Bill rubbed a gloved hand down the side of his face, touching his cheek where Dipper had kissed him before, then his lips.

“People need you in New York, and the Bronx is your home in 9 days. Director’s words, William Cipher, not mine.”

*******************************

“Ah, and here comes the world’s best, big, Gay Detective!!! How is my Daddy feeling?”

Wendy laughed happily as she stood up from the side of the docks, the shoreline wind whipping her red hair across her shoulders as she tucked it behind her ear with a megawatt smile. Bill felt almost a little bit guilty in not being able to have anything more than a close friendship with a woman that gorgeous. Her personality was brilliant, her energy positive and she was often Bill’s light at the end of a shitty tunnel, not to mention she was a goddess. But despite the sharp, witty commentary, Wendy was gifted with the knowledge of computers and the sciences, something Bill understood but not philosophically comprehended. There was a connection yes, but gender and interests set them apart, because as Wendy had just announced to almost every fisherman by the docks at this point, Bill was so very very Gay.

“Wendy, how are things looking up?”

Khris cut in the the most ‘not smooth’ of ways. Talking wasn't his forté. Wendy rolled her eyes as she picked up her equipment, Bill swallowing slightly as he tried his best to not act like a kid who just had his candy taken.

“Good, Khris, why not you go have a look yourself?”

Ouch. Bill sighed softly as Wendy had already caught onto his mood, leaving the tangle of wires with Khris as she walked over to Bill.

“Hey it would be the social norm for me to ask what's wrong but I already know what's wrong.”

She interjected with a small smile, clapping Bill hard on the back despite her at least 2 inches smaller than he was. Bill smiled a small smile nodding his head slowly as he sighed

“Jesus, Bill I told you to find a hole and fuck it, not form some emotional connection with a flesh bag…”

She joked softly, the cynicism strong in her voice making the joke more like a sad splash of reality than an actual attempt to punctuate humour into an already depressing situation.

“Yeah. Sorry…”

“It's not your fault shithead. And you know it's not.”

Wendy proffered, silently withdrawing her own hot pink cigarette tin and offering Bill a joint.

“Not because I owe you one but cause i care for you, kapeesh?”

She huffed, already lighting the end and smoking the first Puff for him, an encouraging smile on her chapped lips, green eyes burning with a fighting spirit. Bill graciously took the offer between his teeth, drawing in a deep breath as Wendy lit a joint for herself, hands shoved into the pockets of her coat as she heaved a sigh. They stared into the dim horizon that was barely visible over the thin layer of Late autumn fog, the sun slowly emerging from the grey ocean, forcing muted, pastel Colours of faded red and yellow and pink into the cloudless sky.

“Let's get this shit over and done with...then you can go and cook for his family and sew sweaters while listening to Hillary Duff for whatever time you have left here, or whatever you gay people do…”

Wendy mumbled, sucking on her joint thoughtful before breathing out a trail of smoke

“But break this off. We've all read his case Honey. Long distance love is the last thing the poor kid needs…”

There was a silence that followed, comfortable yet heartbreaking, Bill holding on to whatever sanity he had left inside him as he nursed his cigarette. the ash crumbled almost in an attempt to mock him in the nooks of his leather gloves as he remembered the feeling of Dipper’s nimble fingers on his palm

******************************

“Heya Grunkle”

Dipper chirped happily as he entered the mystery shack, seeing his grunkle counting cash under the counter, having recently just showed out the first guided tour of visitors.

“Dipper.”

He acknowledged, smiling as he glanced up briefly, but taking a second glance up as he noticed the multiple hickes showing up barely beneath the large collar of his oversized beige sweater.

“Well you seem chipper.”

Stan huffed before chuckling, standing up to crack his back as Dipper set his things down on the floor.

“I'm going out for a smoke, wanna join?”

“Only if it's one of yours cause I'm out”

“Hah! Cheapskate. Just like your old Grunkle Stan…”

Stan laughed as he handed Dipper a joint and smiled, eyes crinkling with Mirth as he exited to sit on the porch overlooking the town square, lighting his joint while Dipper fished out his own lighter.

As they sat in relative silence, Stan suddenly heaved a soft sigh, blowing out a cloud of smoke

“Hey kid, I know I told you I wouldn't interject into whatever you do, but as your legal Guardian I gotta bring this up…”

He cleared his throat and Dipper raised a brow, shifting slightly so he could face Stan.

“Be safe kid. Safe sex I mean. Make sure you have a condom on at all times because-”

“Jeeesus Christ Grunkle- Yeah! I mean...oh my god there were so many directions this could have gone but-”

“I'm just saying kid.”

Stan laughed a little, but threw the topic down so easily it seemed to only be a foreshadowing of what he really meant to say.

“Dip. I gotta tell ya, folks have been telling me about the guy you've be hanging around with a lot recently. Small town Kiddo...and well…”

Dipper flushed heavily, subconsciously scratching his neck at the mention of Bill’s name and exposing the line of purple hickies below his collar.

“You don't gotta tell me shit, but I know a bad guy when I see one. He is a biter, two faced bottom feeder. Literally and figuratively, I'm sure you understand at least one of those…”

“Bill…?”

“Yeah. Cipher. Bill Cipher, or at least that is what he goes by.”

Dipper swallowed, recalling the gentle way Bill swayed about in the kitchen, the warmth of his battered hands on his face and the passionate fire in his ice blue eyes.

“He's working for a firm that isn't even in this county! He plays piano part time at that crappy bar at the edge of town near the docks. He buys drinks for men, women...all sorts. He's god damned talkative, that's for sure. They lap it all up…”

Stan uttered, taking a deep puff and watching as Dipper averted his eyes, pulling his legs up to his chest as he took a shaky breath of his joint. He gulped in the nicotine, eyes hot with an emotion that he didn't quite understand why was there.

“Kid-”

“N-no...thanks for telling me Grunkle..I'll be smarter about it next time…”

Dipper said softly, but was genuinely grateful for the revelation. He sucked in a gulp of the early morning air and shut his eyes, clenching his teeth and seething in the taste of ash in his mouth, trying hard to drown out the taste of Bill’s mouthwash from his tongue.

It hurt. Everything hurt. Dipper liked to think that the burning sensation in his chest wasn't anything but heartburn from chugging soot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh shItt and the plot fuckin thickens!!! I'm having exams soon tbh but like heck I'll be Lying if I said I'm going on a hiatus for a while lmao- but yeah updates may be a bit slow depending on how screwed I am :'>
> 
> AAAHHH IM SO HAPPY WITH THE POSITIVE RESPONSES FOR SPANISH BILL :'> tbh I haven't seen a Spanish bill around so I thought I'd make one since he is popularly Egyptian and all (pyramids yo triAnGLes) and since my Bill character kinda differs from the usual portrayal of his shitty character :> something different; Bill is sweet but yet malicious at times and is just a sassy gay boy with a shitty Best Friend Wendy who does nothing but bitch at him but also loves him very much oh my god I don't know why but I really see them as good friends out of Canon like they are both tricksters tbh 
> 
> Khris is like the old man Father figure I Guess? Like he is always trying to play by the rules but he is assigned to Wendy and Bill who are just troublemakers but he goes real soft on them I can't- 
> 
> DiPper!!! SweEt Smol he has issues okay let me just put this out there and let y'all Guess what shit he has going on in his life. It's kinda ironic that his suffering has led him to success. Kinda like Pollock actually when I think about it- you guys can fill in the blanks as we go along :D
> 
> Hope this sorta clears up some gaps in the characters if I left any :'> I'm trying to be through--- also wow this is a Long chapter noTe nMMMmm bye


	8. Chapter 8

  
Tired soul  
Dragging around a corpse  
Dead  
Dead tired  
Laying,  
Lying,  
Laid  
Lied.  
Chewed me  
Craved me  
Cared for me  
Spit me out  
Screwed me  
Screwed me over  
Messed me up  
Made  
Menacing matter of  
My-

Dipper scrawled out into paper before crushing it and throwing it away, refusing to sound like a love sick teen on his blog or in his book. He sighed, sprawling out on his bed as he shucked off his jeans and lay on the bed in just his boxers, resisting the urge to call him that itched badly like a rash on a summer afternoon. He could drop a text, but at this point it may have seemed too desperate.

It was 11pm. Dipper had been unproductive for a total of 3 hours that Thursday night. No updates from Bill despite him calling for a plan. It was Tuesday the last time Bill had contacted him after their dinner on Monday, so there wasn't technically a rush to talk to him. But Bill definitely made it a point to call Everyday up till now, and Dipper wasn't about to admit that he was used to hearing Bill’s voice before he went to bed, and that Bill didn't even send him a voice recording since then.

“Dignity...or Sanity...that is the question.”

Dipper muttered to himself, sitting upright and grabbing his phone. He checked his blog, cleared his spam and sighed, finger hovering over his contacts. He really did have better things to do than sit around waiting for Bill’s deep, sultry voice to lull him to sleep

“Mind over matter, as the experts say.”

Dipper quickly concluded, pressing the call button to Bill’s number as soon as he mustered logic over feeling. It rang once, twice, Dipper drawing his lower lip between his teeth as Bill didn't answer on the third ring as usual, but let it proceed to the fourth. It was only then did he realise Bill actually had a bad habit of not picking up his phone as seen from that morning’s scene, but Dipper then came to the conclusion that he should be grateful, because Bill always answered his calls or responded when he could. Just as a hot flush spread across his face, on the 7th ring there was an answer.

“Ah...Pine Tree, good timing…”

His breath was bated, loud laughter behind him, dulled speech and noisy, tasteless music.

“Bill…?”

“Yeah, I'll be back soon baby, i’m sorry I haven't been watching the time.”

Dipper raised a brow, slightly confused t the context of Bill’s husky response as he swallowed, deciding to press a bit further

“Bill, what are you talking about…”

“I was at work, and we got a bit carried away afterwards, I'll make my way back now okay? Don't worry sweetie.”

His tone was rusty, as if something had broken and he was just rambling in a seductive monotone in an attempt to start conversation.

“.....you're drunk”

“And you are sexy- I'll call you back, lock up first, I'll be home soon.”

“Bill-”

The line was cut off with the sound of muffled rustling and a gentle thud and Dipper gulped slightly, heavily putting his faith in the notion that Bill was drunk. He silently wondered what a lawyer had business being pissed for on a weekday, and his Grunkle’s words came back to him. About Bill’s excuse and apparent identity mishap. He swallowed, trying hard to suppress the thought to the very recesses of his mind. He genuinely wanted to believe that everything so far had been a little too circumstantial, but yet, fate was a concept Dipper always wanted to explore.

Heaving a soft sigh, Dipper already knew the response he was going to get from Bill if he asked about the alcohol (about how humans drink), so he decided to leave it at that. He popped off his sweater and got into the shower, washing the humidity out of his dead locks and warming up his cool skin. Just as he wrapped his waist up in a towel, he heard a small pitter patter against his window pane akin to falling rain. He immediately rushed to the window, hair askew and limbs tangled as his bare body stung from the cold, remembering placing his journals out by the balcony where he was writing earlier. Hastily throwing on a random pair of joggers and a mustard yellow pullover, Dipper fiddled with the lock to his balcony, only to see that the only thing raining down on his window was a collection of tiny pebbles.

Dipper blinked quizzically, yet at the same time terrified as he slunk outside and grabbed his journals protectively. The cold autumn night air whipped past his ears and kissed his warm skin with a certain fervour as he peered over the lip of the rail of the balcony. Somehow, he was surprised, but not entirely flabbergasted as he saw Bill sitting by the street lamp outside his home, picking at a few pebbles on the ground and sorting them by size.

“Bill? What…”

Dipper spoke before he could help himself, a tiny smile creeping onto his face as he saw the way the older man looked up to him with a beaming smile, dropping the handful of pebbles in his gloved hands.

“Dipper-! Sorry...My phone kinda died on the way here I...”

He laughed and shook his head slightly, looking at the ground and rubbing the back of his neck almost shyly. He shifted from foot to foot, seemingly thinking for a while before he spoke again

“I-I'm sorry about tonight but..I need to talk to you…”

He swayed a little, catching himself against the lamp post and laughing a bit as he looked up to Dipper yet again, his lower lip pulled between his teeth

“Bill, you are so fucking drunk…”

Dipper called back with a slight sigh, still smiling and giddy with mirth but, not really knowing what to do with a 22 year old drunk Lawyer that he knew his Grunkle didn't really like and most definitely wouldn't want in the house.

“I'm..I am a little tipsy...it'll wear off if I move around enough..”

He said, this time more coherently as he rubbed his gloved hands together and shoved them into his coat pockets

“I...Was sober enough to not expect you to let me in when I came so, don't worry too much Little tree, I'm heading back home after this...I just.”

Dipper gulped as it was like Bill had just read his mind yet again and he clutched his journals to his chest, holding his breath slightly as Bill fished around for the words to say.

“I came to say good bye...and I really wanted to come see you in person-”

And that was all Bill got out before noticing Dipper wasn't on the balcony anymore and it's door was slammed shut. Bill blinked, still a bit groggy as the alcohol lingered in his system along with the fact that he had been up a total of 53 hours since he last saw Dipper 2 and a half days ago. He sighed, rubbing his Temples and yearning to crawl back to bed. He had wanted to settle this after a good night's rest, but Wendy had taken his keys somewhere in the middle of the celebratory party Bill had NOT planned on attending, and insisted he dealt with it tonight. For what reason of logic, Bill was not sure. He needed an ibuprofen or he was going to pass out. Too much thinking, too many conflicting emotions.

But before he could even peel off his gloves to feel around in his pocket, he heard the front door to the Pine’s residence fly open and Dipper was a yellow turret headed straight for his chest, knocking the wind right out of Bill and tackling him right into the lamppost. A warm face was pressed to his button up from 2 days ago, arms wrapped tightly around his waist and nose pressed to the space beneath his dirty collar. Silence.

“Pine tree…”

Bill managed, feeling a slight light-headedness from the sudden jolt and the clang of the metal against the back of his head. Gingerly, he placed a hand around the teen before resting one more in his tousled head of hair that smelt distinctly of green apples. The blonde man looked down to gently stroke the hair from Dipper’s forehead, only then realising the younger man wasn't even wearing shoes, his bare feet against the cold concrete of the pavement, toes curling in apprehension.

“Dipper, your feet…”

Bill mumbled softly, trying to gently pry himself away from Dipper, only to feel the younger man grip him tighter, inching closer still but not looking up to face him.

“...I'm not going anywhere until you promise to come inside with me.”

Dipper’s statement surprised himself more than anything, because he didn't know Bill very personally and frankly the older male could very well be a criminal in disguise. But after their interactions from the night before, Dipper had learned to kill his paranoia, and he just wanted to help him; the man who treated him kindly and with respect. But goodbye. Dipper wasn't ready for a goodbye. Not again, not like this.

Bill smelt like ash and the salty sea and nicotine and Brazil nuts. His shirt was crumpled and his suspenders hung uselessly at his sides, alcohol permeating the usual musk and freshness of his cologne. If Dipper didn't know any better, he would say Bill smelt like sex and bad decisions.

“I’ll come in little tree...you're going to fall sick if you-”

Bill was hushed as Dipper then pressed a finger to his lips before stepping back, chestnut eyes shimmering before he looked away and grabbed Bill’s hand. The teen dragged him up to the front door and into the house without another word, locking the door behind them and shoving Bill up the stairs, the only thing lighting the way was the silver bands of moonlight from the hallway window.

Dipper’s room.

Bill looked at the smaller hand gripping his coat sleeve, guiding him to a desk and forcing him to sit, letting himself get dragged around until Dipper finally settled in a stool beside him. Outside, the air was silent, the hum of the heater punctuating the stillness of the warm room as Bill still sat there in his coat and gloves.

”Dipper, I…”

Bill started as he peeled off his coat and swallowed, feeling Dipper’s eyes on him as he adjusted his bow tie.

“Bill...what happened to you..”

The teen blurted out softly, looking up To the taller man and gently brushing the grime from under his blue eyes. Bill winced slightly at the warm touch but said nothing more, hands folded between his legs as he continued to look at the floor.

“You...you're wearing the same clothes from two days ago and reek of shitty bars and the fucking ocean…”

“.....sorry.”

Dipper sighed at the lack of a proper response from the usually coherent man who had a thousand things to utter, looking him over once more for clues to his whereabouts but found none. Bill looked like a Puppy that just got scolded by its owner and abandoned by the dumps. His hair was a mess and his face was gaunt with lethargy. Giving up and frankly unable to see Bill in that state much longer, Dipper gently leaned over and tilted Bill's Chin up from where he was looking down, briefly pressing their lips together in a kiss before pulling back.

“Tell me, Bill…”

The thought about the Mexican Mafia suddenly came back to haunt him, going along with what Stan had mentioned about the Rumours as well, but Dipper kept his doubts at Bay. Bill wouldn't lie, and the blonde man had said he left the mafia a Long time ago. He wanted to trust Bill. He wanted the Anxiety to fade away. Good things never lasted forever.

“...Dipper...I-I can't. Private case matters..no releasing to the public…”

He muttered softly, glassy blue eyes desperate, as if he didn't even believe his own excuse. Dipper took a small step back, breathing in deeply as he combed a gentle hand through Bill’s messy hair, stroking the stray strands of blonde from his tired face.

“Will you at least tell me why you have to say goodbye then..?”

“.....”

“Or...What kind of ‘goodbye’? Will I ever see you again…? When are you leaving?”

Dipper tried again, voice slightly desperate this time as he sat back down to give Bill some room, noticing the older man was clearly in no mental state to deal with this.

“I'm sorry, Dipper.”

“....its okay… I-I know...you're tired.”

The teen responded softly, feeling his stomach sink as he looked to Bill once more before turning, digging in his closet for a new towel and handing it to the blonde man.

“You should shower...i..”

Dipper said quietly, forcing a difficult smile that made the blonde’s stomach lurch, chest heaving with a tightness akin to suffocation. Dipper had heaved a small sigh, planting a kiss to Bill’s forehead, causing the older man to tense up momentarily, surprised by the affectionate response

“Will you stay the night then? If.. this is goodbye…?”

Dipper asked quietly, all the hope in his voice absolutely flattened at this point as he tried his luck, hands wringing his shirt as if he didn't know what else to do with them anymore.

And what else could Bill do but comply?

***************************  
“Have you eaten…?”

“O-oh, yes.”

Bill stuttered as he walked out of Dipper’s bathroom after a hot shower, a pair of loose Pyjama bottoms hanging Low on him hips that Dipper had so kindly lent him after throwing his clothes in the wash. Dipper has flushed slightly at the sight of a bare chested Bill yet again, going back to randomly sorting out the books on his work desk to distract himself from the air of awkward that had settled over the room.

“...Sugar Pine I…”

Bill started first, guilt heavy in the back of his throat at the way Dipper flinched slightly at the nickname before turning to face him, expression unreadable. He looked conflicted, standing there in a dark yellow sweater and grey boxers, awkwardly shifting.

“.....it's not a forever goodbye. I'll come back to visit you if you'd like…”

Bill promised softly, watching as Dipper seemed to relax slightly, lips curving up a little at the sides, but choosing not to respond to Bill’s offer to visit at all.

“...I assume you can't tell me where you are going either huh..”

Dipper deduced and heaved a small sigh, walking over and leading Bill to the small queen sized bed, practically forcing to lay down immediately as the older man shook his head in a silent reply.

“I'm sorry Dipper I just-”

“It's okay. It's fine, really...please stop apologising…”

Dipper hushed Bill with a gentle hand over his mouth, followed by a silent kiss, climbing up onto the bed with him and leaning over his torso as he brushed their noses together after breaking away.

“I just have one more request...it doesn't have to be tonight, but, before you go…”

Dipper’s voice trailed off as he averted his gaze and placed Bill’s still-bruised hand onto his bare thigh, effectively shutting the older male up. He shuddered slightly at the way Bill’s Long fingers instinctively curled around the cleft of his behind, cooled skin quickly sinking into the warm, supple flesh without hesitance.

“Just take me, once last time...then you won't have to come back...I'll forget about you. I promise.

Bill felt a Low groan of arousal and frustration rise from his throat at that statement, not missing the way Dipper’s eyes watered slightly as he pushed his ass back into Bill’s grip, the hand now resting on the older man’s forearm trembling.

“Dipper, baby...stop, hey…”

Bill tried softly and immediately leaned in to Cup Dipper’s face, a tired, sad smile spreading across his lips as Silent tears began to fall from Dipper’s muddy brown eyes before he could even stop them himself.

“Bill…”

The older man gently leaned in to Kiss the salty droplets from Dipper’s cheeks, wiping the impending ones with his thumb as the teen closed his eyes and leaned into Bill’s touch, a hand on His thigh for support.

“Yes, my little tree?”

“....you talk to me, Everyday, every night...you pamper me, put up with all my snarky bullshit and this fucking emotional baggage I drag around…”

“Hey. Your emotional well being is not invalid...wherever it is you are coming from, I’ll understand”

Bill immediately interrupted in all seriousness, only to have Dipper let out a choked laugh between a sob, smiling toothily as he held on to Bill’s hands on his face and sucked in a small breath.

“That's not what I meant by all that but- Thank you…”

Dipper’s chest heaved with the weight of everything, lips pulled taut in an attempt not to cry any harder, bottling up every emotion of hurt and sadness inside him as his smile faltered, the words leaving him.

“What I'm trying to say is...how can you expect me not to hurt when you're gone…”

There was a small space of silence as Bill paused to formulate a response, blue eyes taking Dipper’s smaller frame and searching his eyes for an answer. Finally deciding that words weren't probably the best idea at this point in time, Bill Softly, carefully, cradled the boy into his lap. The younger teen was like putty in his hands, immediately leaning against his chest and placing his arms around Bill’s bare body, feeling the warmth pulsate under his chest. Bill did the same, holding Dipper close and pressing his nose to the teen’s neck, inhaling his gentle scent of fabric softener with disinfectant wipes and Apple shampoo. So clean, So bare and beautiful and compliant, neck still marked with the love bites from the night before, the purples blooming beautifully against his cream complexion.

“Does that mean you've fallen for me?”

Bill asked with a gentle chuckle, and Dipper knew that this time, it was only half a joke. He paused as if to think, Bill now rubbing small patterns on his back, almost lulling him to sleep at the repetitive motion.

“I don't know...I don't know what I'm doing anymore, Bill…”

Dipper answered honestly, voice falling several decibels as he pulled back to look into Bill’s icy blue eyes

“Romanticism has destroyed love for me.”

And Bill laughed, because he knew if he didn't he may have cried, watching happily as a small, shy smile creeped back onto Dipper’s tear stained face.

“It's okay...I know I love you. I'm sorry this hurts...I know it does..”

Bill said softly, under his breath as he brushed his lips past Dipper’s, a hand sliding down to hold on to the teen’s hips, the other resting just below his left thigh.

“I'll take care of you, Sugar pine. I don't know how, don't wanna make empty promises...but i’ll try.”

Dipper let out a small, unintentional whimper at this, leaning his forehead against Bill’s shoulder and letting the older man rest his lips against his head, holding him to his chest almost protectively as they lay back down to sleep. The context of that statement was not pressed further, and Bill only then realised he almost let his cover slip; the fact that he dug around in CIA records and knew every single little bit about Dipper’s past after reading through the case files of his childhood abuse.

But Dipper couldn't comprehend much, his thoughts all fuzzy and his brain already switched to Low processing speed, except for the fact that Bill had shifted a little to turn off the bedside lamp and whispered a gentle goodnight by his ear. The room damp and silent and warm as he curled up next to the man he had already given his heart to, Bill’s strong arms around him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GoODBye??!!! what does this meNannn aAAAAAAAA SHit 
> 
> Jks this story is no where near it's end :>  
> I promise things are going to get much worse but also much better depending on how you look at it but- 
> 
> I hope the plot isn't moving too quickly...I need things to get moving and the momentum to start. This is a tragic love story that is on the course of derailing and I need to sthAp- I don't want to end up slow burning any of my lovely and supportive readers :'>  
> it's not gonna be all lovey dovey but I promise some snippets of fluff and maybe smut to heal the soul along the way:'D
> 
> Bill being daddy af and Dipper caring for a sorta drunk Bill is really cute I'm screaming as I re read my chapters lmao- so have some fluff :> there is gunna be some angst soon as the plot moves along :'>
> 
> Any questions you may have or holes in the plot will be resolved in the next chapter ^_^ stay tuned for Some hOT SeXy TimeS in the next chapter too /WiNk


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Graphic sexy stuff y'all :'> it's everyone's Favourite number!!!

 

It was noon when A few sharp knocks were heard on Dipper’s room door, causing the teen to snap out of slumber rather sleepily, suddenly hyper aware of the fact that he was sleeping against the warmth of Bill’s chest, the very man he had snuck into the house a the night before. Bill roused moments later and gave a soft groan as he glanced from Dipper to the door, equally confused yet apprehensive

“Dipper?”

Came a gentle yet concerned voice from the other side, presumably Ford as discerned from the worried tone and eloquence of his knocks.

“Ye-yes Grunkle Ford?”

Dipper stumbled out as Bill released him from their embrace so the boy could shuffle out of bed, immediately walking over to the bedroom door and opening it slightly to see Ford standing there, a cleanly pressed and washed set of black slacks, a white shirt, a pair of brown and white boxers and blue Rubber ducky socks in his hands. Dipper flushed hard.

“Here...I figured this belonged to our guest…”

Ford smiled kindly as he handed the clothes over to Dipper, noticing the way the dark pink flushed up the sides of his Nephew's face as his toes curled nervously against the carpeted floor

“Don't worry too much about it...I hid his shoes under the stairs and Stan hasn't noticed a darn thing…”

The older scientist said quietly, tone still soft as he chuckled and ruffled Dipper’s bedhead, all the Teen’s anxiety leaving him at once.

“Thank you, Grunkle Ford…”

“Don't mention it...Stan just has his suspicions, you know him..and I'm sure you have your reasons for letting a stranger in last night so…”

He laughed a bit and Dipper smiled a wily smile, thanking Lady Luck for gracing him with her blessed presence that morning.He owed Ford an explanation later on, it was the least he could do after all the help he had provided.

“We've got some leftover spaghetti from last night that we’re having for lunch. You both should come join us if you're up for it. I'll make y'all some midday coffee..”

Ford added before smiling back and heading back down the stairs, Dipper closing the door quietly after thanking him again, knees almost knocking as he set Bill’s clothes on his desk.

“....Christ.”

Dipper finally breathed out, looking up to see Bill already sat upright on the side of the bed, head in his hands, as if already resigned to having his head blown off by a shotgun. He looked up slowly as Dipper closed the door and felt a slight blush fill his cheeks at the sight of his neatly folded clothes being brought in.

“God...so what's the verdict?”

“Ford and Mabel know you're here, except for my other grunkle Stan, so that's good...they don't mind. We're having spaghetti for lunch…”

Dipper drawled as he finished with a yawn, side eyeing Bill who seemed intent of nursing his head in his hands

“You need an Ibuprofen..?”

Dipper asked quietly as he walked back over to Bill and opened his bedside table to reveal a myriad of medicines all jammed into different containers that were labeled briefly, threatening to spill out onto the floor.

“Yeah...my head's killin’ me…”

Bill sighed gratefully as Dipper handed him a packet of white and blue pills before heading to the bathroom to get him a glass of water. The older man felt his head spin slightly as he grabbed his silver watch off the bedside table, struggling to buckle it as the shiny metal glinted almost menacingly in the sun. He gave up, Taking two tablets and downed the pills as soon as Dipper returned, heaving a small sigh before smiling and looking to the teen before him

“Hi”

“Hi”

Dipper responded with a chuckle and leaned in to kiss Bill briefly, being rewarded with the older man leaning forward to capture his lips again, a smirk persisting as Bill nipped gently at his lower lip so the kiss could drag out. Dipper eventually laughed, muting himself, not wanting to be too loud as he knew Bill must have been experiencing quite the hangover. He then got the watch off the table and slid it onto Bill’s wrist, buckling it easily before throwing a goofy smile towards the older man.

He definitely wasn't expecting Bill to haul him up onto his lap and pull him down to his bare chest in response, lying back down onto the bed. Dipper laughed softly, brushing the hair from Bill’s beautiful blue eyes.

“You shouldn't move around too much or your headache is going to get worse.”

“It's fine...I'm really going to miss you Pine tree.”

Bill chuckled honestly in response, gently stroking the side of Dipper’s cheek, causing the younger man to fall silent, a hand drawing mindless patterns on Bill’s chest; because silence was the only reply he could muster. Bill felt a small unease at Dipper’s lack of response, but chose to acknowledge that feeling of rejection; this was his fault after all. He embraced the warmth of another human pressed to him, the way Dipper’s soft lips brushed past his jaw and nipped slightly below his ear, marking him with a small, yet noticeable hickey. His body flushed with a familiar warmth, heat pooling in his belly in anticipation when

His phone rang on the bedside table where Dipper had plugged it in to charge the night before, and the teen pulled back slightly, grabbing Bill’s phone and handing it to him before continuing his gentle assault on Bill’s neck. The older man groaned slightly, realising he had almost forgotten about his headache until then and checked the caller ID before answering noncommittally

“Hello.”

“You didn't come home last night. I hope what I think happened didn't happened.”

“Nothing happened, Wendy.”

“...Right...I've booked plane tickets. We are heading back next Tuesday. Don't tell anyone, not even Mason. Khris said we disappear, just like usual.”

“I want you, Bill. More than a lot of things.”

The brunette interjected, nuzzling his nose to Bill’s cheek just as Bill opened his mouth to reply to Wendy

“Bill? ...Helloooo~”

“Y-yeah. I'll call you back.”

“No, Bill, I'm getting to the important part-”

“Wendy I'm-”

In a moment of impulsivity, Dipper had slid a hand down to the waistband of the pants he had lent Bill, gently rubbing against the noticeable bulge Bill was packing in the thin fabric. He gently kissed up Bill’s neck, nuzzling his prominent jugular as it bobbed slightly with trepidation. Dipper knew what he wanted, and he was going to get it.

“Okay I need your passport details and your credit card number cause Khris isn't picking up my calls.”

Wendy hummed, and Bill could hear her clacking away at her keyboard on the other end of the line.

“Umm- it's in the safe...fuck..”

Bill stuttered, cursing away from the speaker as Dipper had now slid off his lap onto the floor between his legs, nudging his knees apart. Brown eyes were dark and begging for his attention as they met Bill’s, Dipper’s nose bravely nuzzling at the warmth between Bill’s legs, fingertips dancing along his inner thigh.

“Okay the safe...which passport did we use to fly here again? Russian, American or German-”

“Ack- ah, Khris said to use a different one this time…”

Bill swallowed, finding it harder and harder to articulate his replies by being clear to Wendy but Ambiguous to Dipper all at the same time. It was really much harder as Dipper peeled off the fabric off Bill’s cock and gently removed it from the pants, planting soft kisses down the smooth, trimmed thin hairs of Bill’s abdomen.

“Sooo… which one?”

Wendy sing-songed, Bill’s eyes fixated on the way Dipper now pressed his warm lips to the base of his cock, a hand languidly pumping his member to life.

“German--aah-! Use the German ones..”

Bill swallowed an impending groan as Dipper hand already taken the tip of Bill’s cock into his mouth, tongue gently darting out and dragging against the slit. His dark eyes peered up to Bill, dark lashes fanning out over them as he sucked gently and hesitantly at first, as if waiting for the older man to shove him off; but Bill would be crazy if he tried to stop this

“Are you okay Bill?”

“Ye-yeah...I just-”

Bill choked on his words as Dipper now started bobbing his head more confidently at a steady pace, tongue lurking along the underside of his member, sliding against the thick, sensitive vein below his tip. His thin lips stretched out over Bill’s hardening cock, his breath coming out in small moans as he closed his eyes and took his time savouring the older man’s length, seemingly despondent to Bill’s plight

“....um- what..?”

Wendy prodded, but Bill wasn't answering because Dipper was getting way ahead of himself and had leaned upwards, already trying to deepthroat. He hung up instantaneously and switched off his phone with one hand, the other now sliding into Dipper’s unruly head of brown locks, stroking his scalp gently. The younger teen shuddered at the way Bill gently tugged his head back from his frivolous attempt and looked up to meet his azure eyes, continuing with a satisfied hum as the blonde man could give him his fullest attention.

“God..Dipper, you're crazy…”

Bill mumbled, breathless as he made a sound between a pleasured groan and a chuckle that send a warmth straight to Dipper’s gut. The younger boy moaned back against Bill’s cock in response, acknowledging his statement as he continued sucking, this time slightly harder. As the male above him seethed and tugged at his hair softly, Dipper could feel his own cock stiffening in his boxers. The fact that just the sight alone of Bill’s manhood had him keening with need was enough to send a hot flush across his cheeks as he tipped his head forward, licking a desperate stripe up Bill’s member as he began touching himself with his free hand, the tent in his boxers unmistakable.

“Mm…”

Bill hummed lowly as he let out a slight Pant, resisting the urge to stand up and fuck himself into Dipper’s pretty, little mouth. As he glanced downwards to see the younger man quite literally swallowing him up, he noticed Dipper slowly bucking his hips into a free hand as well, tears welling up slightly at the momentum as he whimpered noisily against the sensitive surface.

“Aah...fuck- Hey…”

Bill managed, carefully pressing his palm to Dipper’s forehead to pull him back back, gulping as he saw how a thin sliver of Saliva connected Dipper’s swollen lips and his throbbing cock, now standing proud, fully erect. Dipper’s flushed countenance was complemented beautifully by his Wide, brown eyes as they looked up to Bill, waiting almost obediently for his possible command, lips parted slightly

“Get up here…I'll take care of you too.”

Bill motioned to the bed as he shucked off the pants he was wearing, hearing Dipper clamber up eagerly behind him

“Turn around.”

Bill ordered briefly, watching Dipper look over his shoulder to him, the mild worry in his eyes masked partially by lust as Bill slid a hand down to hold his hips, tugging him back briefly so his ass was perked up just in front of Bill's face.

“Have you ever had your ass eaten, little tree…?”

Bill asked softly, voice warm and sultry as he pushed Dipper’s sweater up a bit, revealing the slim dip of his waist and the groove along the small of his back. The younger teen shuddered slightly at the vulgar question and the way Bill’s silver watch clinked along his skin, the cold metal sending a chill up his spine. Bill’s deep voice rumbled in his chest as he shook his head slightly in reply ,letting Bill tug down the back of his boxers and down to his ankles.

“Mmm….”

Bill then hummed as he placed a hand on either side of Dipper’s bottom, spreading the cheeks apart before dragging a tongue across the surface of Dipper’s entrance. The flat even strokes made Dipper’s back bow in submission, his body tensing up at the New sensation as he keened softly, leaning into Bill’s touch. As the older man went to work on rimming Dipper’s entrance, the teen gave a soft gasp of discomfort when the metal watch made contact with his hot skin again, his thighs trembling as Bill then pressed his tongue into his hole. The cold ridge of Bill’s nose was flush against his tailbone as he liberally began to lick Dipper’s inner walls, the teen now moaning softly, loving the way Bill’s fingers dug into his thighs to pull him closer. He leaned his upper body on Bill’s abdomen and began work on the blonde’s erection yet again, one hand fisted in the sheets while the other massaging the base of Bill’s ball as he glorified every inch of that cock he wanted in him so badly.

“Mmmff….”

Dipper mewled softly as Bill slowly ate him out, tongue reaching deeper as the teen worked on his hard cock yet again. It wasn't a fast, fleeting lick, but more like a dedicated, slow and hot, passionate worship of Dipper’s behind. As Bill gave the younger boy’s butt a rough squeeze, feeling the teen’s entrance twitch in response, his warm breath Ghosted past the now puckered hole, almost asking to be filled.

“Oh man...Dipper..”

Bill called softly as he pulled back briefly, licking his lips before kissing the Boy’s thigh, biting the supple flesh there and leaving a mark that caused Dipper to yelp. The teen moaned softly at the loss however, arching his back more, prompting Bill to slide a thumb into his compliant entrance before leaning in yet again, the stimulation causing Dipper to jolt slightly in surprise, the hotness of Bill’s tongue against in him causing him to let out a sharp moan that may have been a bit too loud for their current circumstances.

“Fuck..hha..”

Dipper mumbled against Bill’s member as his toes curled in pleasure, wanting nothing more but more fingers

“Bill-- please…”

“Please, what Sugar Pine…?”

The older man asked gently, slowly adding a second finger to Dipper’s entrance, delighted at the way It seemed to almost suck his digits in. Dipper had his fingers coiled loosely around Bill’s cock at this point, biting his lower lip as Bill slowly stroked his inner walls with his well groomed fingers, Long digits reaching up far inside him to massage his prostate.

“Hhha….don't tease if..”

Dipper felt the words catch in his throat as Bill found his prostate, gently rubbing against it as he used his free hand to languidly pump Dipper’s throbbing cock.

“Mmm..you baited me first sweetie…”

Bill uttered, giving Dipper’s ass a experimental spank just to test the waters, not expecting the younger man to shudder slightly, precum dripping from his own length as he gave a soft mewl, easing his hips slightly backwards against Bill’s fingers.

“I'm..So-sorry...hhhaa..”

The blonde male simply groaned in response at Dipper’s out of character reply, slowly starting to scissor Dipper open, planting soft Kisses over his bottom and rubbing his length for him, sighing in pleasure as Dipper did the same for him, lips brushing past the Tip of his cock as he pumped the base.

“Hh- cumming...Bill…”

Dipper whispered slightly, his walls clenching tightly on Bill’s fingers as he bucked his hips slightly into Bill’s warm, large hand, hearing the older man groan behind him

“I got you...cum for me, Pine tree…”

Bill had only taken his hand off Dipper’s cock for a second to grab tissue from the bedside table, but had turned back to see Dipper had already climaxed, breath hitching up in a slight moan. His own hand was clamped over his mouth as he panted slightly, his warm fluids dripping onto Bill’s chest and torso and onto the sheets.

“Gosh, you're like a leaky tap aren't ya…”

Bill cooed softly and pulled his fingers out slowly, no heat in his voice as he gently tugged Dipper back up to face him.

“S-sorry…”

Dipper apologised softly, sentence structured as if the ending of that statement was missing a pronoun. Strange, but Nonetheless, Bill smiled slightly at the sight of the younger man, messy hair and eyes wild with need, yet still patient, his lips slick with spit that ran down the sides of his mouth.

"It's fine, we'all clean up later..."

The older man coaxed gently, wiping away Dipper's spit with his clean hand, chuckling as The teen then playfully sucked on his knuckles

“You're so fucking attractive, it's not even funny anymore, you know that..?”

Bill mumbled slightly at the thought that the temptress now on his lap could also hold a decent conversation with him about Political anarchy, licking his lips as Dipper rested his hands on his bare chest before leaning in to kiss his neck.

“Mm...I still wanna jerk you off in the shower if that's okay..”

Dipper responded softly, sliding off Bill and switching on the heater to the bathroom, a small smirk playing on the corner of his lips as the blonde man could only fall victim to a siren’s call, never wanting to leave.

*********************

Bill definitely was satisfied with a handjob in the hot shower with Dipper, the younger man kissing him stupid against the shower wall as warmth rained down on them, Dipper’s lithe fingers coiled around his thick cock and jerking him off. Bill sunk his fingers into the supple flesh of Dipper’s ass and the small dip of his waist, moaning softly against Dipper’s lips, their voices echoing gently in the room.

“Close- hhaa..Dipper..”

Bill hissed slightly, Dipper nodding in acknowledgement and continuing to engage in open mouth kisses, quickening the pace as his wrist pumped at Bill’s manhood. Bill groaned as he released into the boy’s hand a few seconds later, breaking away to breathe, before being greeted yet again by a series of soft, passionate kisses from the teen, hair and water in his eyes as Dipper kissed him madly through his orgasm. As they finally broke away, Dipper drew mindless patterns across the defined surface of Bill’s stomach and looked up into his blue eyes, pushing back his wet blonde hair so that he could admire every single handsome contour of Bill’s face.

“You had better call me when you are away, Bill Cipher...Every night..I'll answer your texts...but only sparingly...okay?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhhhh shit I'm sorry they haven't banged yet but hey look have some 69 Hahahshjdkfkdhdjf 
> 
> Thank you for all the Kudos and comments!!! I'm so sorry I haven't been able to reply to all of them but I really do appreciate and Read through every single comment~ They really motivate me to write faster and post more aaaaaa :'> and I really am thankful for the support :D so a big thank you to all my lovely readers And those who always come back for more ^_^ 
> 
> I hope you liked the smut(ish) in this chapter! I'm sorry if my descriptions get too Long sometimes and the fic is dragged out :'> but do bear with me and leave feedback! I'll take it into account for the next chapters! 
> 
> Aaaaaaaa I love making dipper crumble in Bill's hands even though he is a tough cookie ajsjjxjdkfkck I will reveal more about Sooner or later but I'm sure some of you can already Guess >:>
> 
> OkAy bUt foRd such a lovely grunkle lmao. I decisively wanted him to be the complete foil of Stan aaaaa but let's see what happens next time :3
> 
> Now if you excuse me I'm going to go lay down in bed and browse tumblr for the next hour or so instead of showering and actually getting work done-


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lack of replies to comments :'> I really want to sit down and rely them sincerely but life has been a wreck recently so I haven't had the time! :'D (I've typed these chapters in advanced HAHAH before exam period bOoO) I will do my best to reply asap! 
> 
> I really appreciate all the support and feedback! Thank you so much for your time ^_^

“Do you want milk and sugar in your coffee?”

Dipper asked as he glided around the kitchen table to get a Mug for their coffee, already dressed up for the day. They had made their way down around 3.30pm and Ford had already started on his projects in the basement while Mabel left a note saying she went to get groceries. They were alone and the room was warm and cozy, Bill looking through the morning papers intently 

“Ah yes, no sugar, just milk…”

Bill replied with a small smile, running through the headlines with a finger 

[ DRUG CARTEL HAULED THROUGH OREGON HARBOUR Local authorities warrant arrest and prepare for lockdown of Gravity falls for the next week. All legalised movement in and out of the Falls will be prohibited. ]

“Huh, I Guess that explains the lowered rates on Pot recently.”

Dippered hummed as he placed Bill’s cup down beside him and sipped on his own coffee, peering over Bill’s shoulder to look at the newspaper.

“You smoke?”

Bill chuckled, raising an eyebrow as he glanced to Dipper, amused more than anything 

“Yeah. Scholarships and inspiration don't just pop outta nowhere…”

Dipper laughed softly, but Bill could see a sadness in his eyes at the context of the matter as Dipper brought the warm drink to his lips. He passed a worried glance over the teen as he averted his brown eyes, fiddling with the lip of his coffee cup.

“I probably shouldn't be saying that to a lawyer on second thought. But, need it for my anxiety. The pills are troublesome and ain't helping much nowadays.”

Dipper said, swallowing before giving Bill a reassuring smile, appreciative of the concern. The older man nodded and sipped on the coffee before him, silence settling comfortably around them as the spaghetti heated up in the microwave. Dipper leaned into Bill’s side, checking his social media and reading through his emails for a while before Bill’s spoke up.

“Soooo… what are your plans for the future.”

Dipper smiled in response, setting his phone down and peering up to Bill as he chimed

“Hmm. You say that like your sizing me up for marriage..”

Bill laughed softly and couldn't help but give Dipper a megawatt smile, stroking the curly locks from his eyes as he said gently

“Maybe, but seriously. I'm interested...what does the presidential scholar have in mind for the future?”

Dipper hummed softly and pursed his lips,’taking a sip of his coffee thoughtfully as he sighed.

“I wanna work as a curator. Not too sure where though...I wanna specialise in literature and moving images. Maybe in a museum or even as a director...I'm not to sure. Plans change.”

Bill nodded in response, smiling slightly at the notion of Dipper dressed in a suit running coffee errands before his promotion. He would make a fine curator. Those kinda jobs always meant people and socialising and lots of free time for self growth.

Just as Bill was about to formulate a reply, his phone rang again, this time in texts. The younger teen heard Bill sigh, their shoulders pressed together as Bill got his phone out and quickly typed a reply before silencing it once again.

“Work..?”

Dipper asked quietly, gently resting a Hand on Bill’s battered one as he looked up to him. 

“Yeah…”

“I mean, it is a weekday and you did miss half a day already.”

“We were supposed to be given leave today but…they want me back in the office later”

Bill said with a tired, sad smile, not missing the way Dipper’s eyes fell momentarily as he shifted in his seat, his hand gradually retracting from Bill’s

“I-it's okay! Um…”

“I'll leave after we eat. And...I promise I'll call you tonight. How does that sound…?”

Bill softly interrupted as he saw Dipper fiddling with the tablecloth, clearly slightly anxious at the notion that he would never see or hear from Bill again after the resolution last night. The reaction was only natural, especially for someone like Dipper who was suffering from some reverse form of the Electra complex. 

After some thought, Bill planted a soothing kiss to Dipper's forehead as the teen visibly reclined,!leaning yet again into Bill's side, typing away at his phone.

*****************

“Okay, Sugar pine, I gotta go..”

Bill said softly as they dried the last plate off after washing up, Dipper wiping his hands on a cloth before handing it to Bill. The teen nodded and smiled, getting Bill’s coat off the chair and handing him his leather gloves. 

“Stay safe...whatever the hell it is you are doing out there..”

Dipper laughed as he crossed his arms, causing Bill to chuckle softly, walking to the front door. 

“Help me thank your family. They seem nice, wish I could have met them today…”

He sighed, actually genuinely Glad they didn't encounter anyone else on the way down, or his disappearance later on could cause so much more of an uproar than it should. He was however, grateful for the hospitality and understanding of the household, and thankful that Dipper and Mabel could find permanent sanctuary here after the shitty and abusive caretaking of his biological parents. Stanley and Ford had brought them up nicely for what it's worth mentioning. Love heals all things. That's a good tattoo idea actually. 

“Um. See ya I Guess…”

Dipper's soft mumble interrupted Bill’s train of thought as he put on his oxfords from under the stairs and stood up, heaving a soft sigh before opening his arms slightly, inviting him in for a hug. Bill chuckled at the way Dipper immediately made a beeline for his torso, burying his face in the crook of Bill’s neck and wrapping his arms around him.

“I'll call you, tonight. You go write your novel and do your essays Little tree…Maybe one day you’all end up working for MoMa..”

Bill laughed teasingly, but was silenced by Dipper kissing him softly before pulling away with an awkward smile. 

“I will. Write about you, that is. When you are gone…whenever it is that you're leaving.”

And Bill felt his stomach turn at the sudden change in topic, his heart sinking in guilt but at the same time, feeling as though this was Dipper’s way of saying he would be okay, and that circumstances can't be helped and this wasn't Bill’s fault Well maybe it was 

“I'd like that...I'll read your blog everyday and buy your book the moment it publishes.”

Bill smiled wider and cupped Dipper’s face with his hands for a while, watching as the teen closed his eyes momentarily, as if just to Savour the warmth of his bare palms 

“I love you, Dipper Pines. Take care, yeah? Until Fate allows it, We’ll meet again.”

“Soon?”

“Maybe.”

**********************

“You had sex with him again, didn't you?”

Wendy deadpanned as Bill walked through the front door to their apartment, his undone collar doing nothing to Hide the tiny fresh hickies under his jaw as he kicked off his shoes.

“No, Wendy, we did not have sex.”

Bill sighed, plonking himself down on the couch and tipping his head back onto the pillows, vision reeling slightly as the painkillers started to wear off

“Well the last time I checked it didn't take a total of 16 hours to get your laundry done.”

The redhead snorted, noticing Bill’s clothes from 3 days back were freshly ironed and clean. Sighing, she noted his discomfort and sat up to get him some aspirin from the kitchen.

“....God, he is so cute, Wendy.”

Bill mumbled, hearing the younger woman hum in response before returning with a glass of water with the fizzy tablet

“Mmhm...you tell me everyday”

“...it's like, can ya imagine meeting this random IT guy at a gaming convention, and he is actually an engineer, -thank you-, that builds things like personal helicopters for fun? And he is ripped as heck and is sorta Asian and offers to buy you a burger?”

Bill extrapolated, taking the glass from Wendy and thanking her mid sentence, causing her to raise a brow 

“You memorised all the things I told you about my ideal man..?”

“Perks of an auditory memory, my dear girl.”

Bill hummed, taking a sip of the carbonated drink and relaxing into the plush of the old couch. Wendy laughed and plonked down beside him, leaning her head on his shoulder and crossing her arms.

“You okay? Physically I mean. I know you aren't feeling to good about Mason Pines. 1 night of no sleep by the docks and then another for interrogation has got to be rough...I can't believe you and Khris stuck it out all the way until the druggies showed up just so you could inform the squadron asap and identify the ringleaders without getting more 3rd parties involved…”

Bill sighed softly, remembering how sad Dipper looked and the worry in his eyes when he saw the state Bill was in. 

“...yeah, kinda lost track of time after a while. I turned off my phone for a good 32 hours and we just waited…”

Bill finished the last bit of the drink and leaned back again, closing his eyes

“Ah man...I didn't even know it was Thursday when we went for drinks until Dipper called.”

He chuckled dryly, peeling off his gloves and setting them on the table, tracing the bruises in his knuckles and the many scars that littered his hands.

“I promised him a date...fuck, I felt horrible…”

“.....you didn't tell him right? About all this, about anything.”

“Nope. He is a smart kid though…asks many questions, questions he shouldn't be asking but…”

Bill trailed off, seeing Dipper’s lewd face in his mind, the scent of him leaking and the way his mouth hung open when Bill fucked him senseless. 

“Let it go, Bill. You aren't his daddy or anything. It's not your job to keep him happy and take him on play dates..”

She hummed as a gentle reminder, checking her phone as Bill nodded slowly. He did like it when Dipper called him ‘Papi’.

Wow that was a thought.

“Mmhm…Ima go sleep some more. We won't have peace when Khris wakes up and gets here.”

Bill said after some thought, sitting up to crack his back. Wendy nodded in acknowledgement, scrolling through her online copy of cosmopolitan, nothing else but bad sex tips on her mind at that moment.

As Bill entered his room, he peeled off his socks and bowtie, sloppily removing his suspenders and shucking off his slacks before sinking onto the softness of his bed. The sheets were still sloppily made as how Dipper had left them, and he could still smell the faint scent of antibacterial wash and apples on the pillows.

**************************

“Will, get up.”

A gruff voice growled, nudging him on the shoulder roughly, breath ragged 

“AaCk…Christ, Khris?”

“Pack up your shit. We have to leave now. Get Wendy while you’re at it. 10 minutes.”

There was the shuffling of cloth, the sound of cargo pants ruffling as Khris went around the room gathering all of his and Bill’s things into a luggage. He quite literally threw a pair of army green Joggers at Bill and a brown turtleneck.

“I'm serious. Change. Now! Get Wendy”

He repeated, and Bill immediately shucked off his white shirt and bowtie, pulling the clothes on hastily and shoving his other clothes into the large suitcase before grabbing his belongings and dashing to Wendy’s room. His heart pounded. He knew what this was and what this protocol meant.

The cat was out of the bag sooner than they had expected. 

He hastily rubbed the sleep from his eyes and barged into Wendy’s room, thankful that for how messy the Girl was, she always kept her quarters well maintained. 

“Wendy. Wendy, get up.” 

Bill hurriedly shook the younger woman awake, hearing her groan before sitting up.

“B-bill...what Time is it...”

“We need to leave. Now. Quick put on some dark clothes and let's move.”

The blonde man said, clearly flustered but trying to keep his cool as he tugged out Wendy’s suitcase and neatly stuffed whatever little she had in there, throwing her a black Sweater and grey leggings. She swallowed, clearly realising the weight of the situation as she peeled off her white Tee and quickly clipped up her bra, stepping her bare legs into the leggings and throwing on the black sweater in a hurry. 

“What happened?”

She managed as she quickly bunned up her unruly red hair and helped Bill pack, double checking the room before carrying out all the trash as well.

“Don't know…but Khris said we have to clear out in the next 10 minutes.”

Bill breathed out, lugging out the suitcase after tugging off the sheets they had and shoving Wendy’s clothes in, the room now empty as if nothing was ever even there. 

“Both of you shut up. We need to go. I already loaded everything else into the van. Hurry”

There was no fire or spite in his voice, just desperation and concern as he threw Bill the his silver watch and ushered them out quickly. No words were exchanged as they loaded up into an inconspicuous black van, Bill taking the wheel, Wendy hoping up into the back of the van where 2 thin mattresses lay on the floor. Khris barked at someone on the phone to stop talking, signalling briefly to where Bill was to turn. 

“Okay….phones out. Now.”

Khris had ordered as Bill pulled out of Gravity falls and onto the highway, the tires screeching against the asphalt as The older man urged him to step on the accelerator. Bill dug out his phone from his back pocket and Wendy quietly handed hers over, flinching as Khris then threw them out the window into the sea below them on the bridge.

“We've been tracked. Like fucking rats.”

Khris sighed, explaining softly as he leaned back into the passenger's seat and picked out his cigarette tin to light a joint, a deep breath of the smoke leaving his lips as he heaved a sigh of relief, an arm dangling out the window.

“They were bloody tapping our phone calls and everything…it's actually a miracle we managed to nab them at the docks that night. Good fucking riddance”

Bill swallowed, Gloved hands gripping the steering wheel tight as a deathly thought came to mind. 

Dipper.

He had called Dipper Everyday for the past 3 months; what if they tracked him down next?  
He shoved the empty thought down to the back of his mind as he drove down the empty freeway at top speed, the night outside black as hell. His throat seared with guilt, pain and his heart felt like it was pounding a million times a minute. The car was silent but Bill felt like his ears were going to implode. Everything hurt, and it especially didn't help as he recalled the way he had bid goodbye to Dipper. He meant it as a goodbye till work cleared and he could return to the falls to visit. He meant it as a goodbye that meant Dipper would be safe and happy to see him again. If he wanted to see him again, that is.

Everything was happening too quickly. 

One night Dipper was a good fuck and pleasant company and the next he was someone who Bill wanted in his life. And the next few weeks they were cuddling and Dipper had turned from being annoyed and hanging up to becoming so much happier waiting for his calls everyday. Even though Bill was so tired from work and talking about absolutely nonsense, and just wanted to rest and sleep and drink; listening to Dipper’s quiet breathing, his soft laughter amongst the rustling of the sheets. It made every second worth it.

“Jesus Christ, Boy-!”

Khris suddenly exclaimed, pulling the wheel sharply to the right as another car whizzed past them in the opposite direction with a fleeting honk, nearly taking their side mirror with them. Bill sucked in a deep breath, grounding himself as his heart leaped in his chest.

“Fuckin’ pay attention, you're gunna get us killed…”

Khris seethed as he glared at Bill, earning a Tsk from Wendy in the back seat as she looked at him with concern from the rear view mirror

“Sorry, I kinda just...thinking about a lot.”

“Well stop thinking. Especially if it's about that kid.”

Khris said firmly and knew he'd hit Homerun the moment Bill’s knuckles cracked from how tightly he held the steering wheel.

“It's my job to worry right now, about the higher ups of the Damn cartel busting our heads open. It's your job to drive Wyoming in the next 12 hours, we’ll take breaks in between but no rest stops ”

The older man continued, shuffling his map in his lap as he checked their marked out route through Idaho and Utah, tsking as his pen ran out of ink halfway through the route marker as he lost his train of thought. 

“Just drive Bill. Wendy, you make sure the guns are loaded and we have the emergency bags packed up just in case. I’ll call the CIA at the next stop and Try to get help…fat chance they'll get to us in time with all the bureaucracy going on though.”

Khris grumbled, clearly stressed as he Nursed his joint and tipped his head back, the silver moonlight cold against their skin with the window open. In the back of the Van, Wendy shuffled around on her knees, lining the mattresses with their old sheets and packing up the canned food and random packages that were strewn everywhere before settling down with the guns. As she polished the hilt of her revolver, she looked up into the rear view mirror, taking notice of Bill’s Icy blue, frightened eyes. But the fear was not for his own well being, this she knew. Because Bill wasn't afraid of anything, but was digging in so deep with Dipper that he couldn't find away to pull himself out while leaving the boy behind.

**********************

“Bill...I need to pee…” 

Wendy whined softly from the front seat 6 hours into the drive, green eyes soft and pleading as she tipped her head back and groaned a little, watching the man sigh softly and side eye her.

“Sorry Hun, Khris said no actual break stops till we reach Wyoming.

“It's no fair, you men get to whip your dicks out and pee in a bush…”

“We can stop and you can pee in a bush…”

Bill hummed softly with a cheeky smile, Wendy slapping his shoulder and huffing. 

“Fine! I don't actually need to go anyways I'm just…”

Wendy sighed, knowing Bill was an excellent interrogator and could pick up on anything. She put her feet up on the dashboard tucking a stray strand of red hair away from her eyes and behind her ears as she admitted, lashes downcast 

“I know...how it must feel to sorta leave someone behind, Bill.”

She mumbled, wringing her hands slightly as she continued

“Especially if it's because of your job…”

There was a small silence in the van, Khris’s soft snoring in the back as he slept on a mattress. Bill could feel Wendy’s concerned eyes on him, the thought of Dipper being held hostage and his family being put in danger making his blood boil.

“I-it's fine...I let myself get too deep in this...he is probably fine, I think cartels have better things to do that hold people hostage…”

Bill managed to say smoothly, as if patting down the insecurities knawing at his logic as he let out a small breath, trying to pretend that he wasn't watching Dipper get gang raped as a form of interrogation in the back of his mind. But it was only then that Bill realised how much he didn't want anyone else's hands on Dipper pines, and how much more he craved the younger man at exactly that moment. In his arms, safe and comfortable, 170cm of cute totally within his grasp, having harmless, meaningful banter as they were hunted down on their flee route to New York.

Mind blowing Sex at the back of the van when the night's were Long and Dipper was cold.

No, Dipper never liked PDA, much less that. 

“Bill. Are you listening to me?”

Wendy had been talking for a while now and Bill slowly phased back in, a solid knot in his throat

“Mawp, Mawp, Mawp...Sorry, Tinnitus kicking back in…”

He lied, rubbing his face down with his hand and focusing on the bleak road ahead of him. At least The sun was coming up.

“Okay, I was just thinking...It's okay to call him, and now that our phones are gone our best bet would have been calling him at a public phone.. that is, at a rest stop…that's why I wanted to stop but...”

She sighed, looking out the window to see the sun rise above the horizon

“You look so superficially okay that it's scaring me Bill….”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HoLy shIt!!!! Just when You thought things were finally working out for them NOpe heLLa just loOK at thAT dramA bOmb! /slow burn that hurts in a good way tbh cause Angst/
> 
> Okay but fuck me this story needs to progress and Bill needs to get his shit together because he just left Dipper in Gravity falls without a saying a word I'm Sh00k!! How will he handle this I'm not sure but he better handle it well or Ima slap a BItCh 
> 
> Okay technically I would be slapping myself but technicalities aside- more of this story to come! I have yet to reveal more about Bill and we've still got a Long way to go my bois- So buckle up! It's going to be rough...
> 
> /Now to settle some stuff about the context of some things so y'all won't have to Google it lol/
> 
> Electra complex: it's a psychological term; (see Odepious complex for sons to their mothers) Freudian theory of a Daughters natural attraction to specific qualities her Father has, considering they had a good relationship. If they had a bad one, how the Daughter seeks the opposite qualities of her bad Father figure in other men. Because Freudian theories are old they don't associate these concepts with homosexuality and stuff. They just assumed everyone was straight. SOOo in a modern day context we simply call this "DADDY ISSUES!" And in dipper's case: you can connect the dots :'>
> 
> La Eme: aka: The M  
> The largest Functioning Mexican mafia in the United States.  
> Take note the references I make to a larger cartel hunting them down is NOT La eme and will be explored later :>
> 
> Tinnitus: a ringing sound that is caused by damage to the eardrums from loud gunshots in the past or present /+10 points if you got the archer reference-/ 
> 
> Bill is a registered psychologist. He can play piano and Spanish guitar and is an auditory learner. Bill isn't his real name- well actually he doesn't have a real name but more to that later on ajshdjjdkfkf


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Double whammy this week because I'm sure everyone is sorta on the edge of their seats rn :> enjoy!

  
Impulsive  
Compulsive  
Smile, elusive.  
Convulsive  
Expulsive  
Thoughts, repulsive  
Possibly  
Exclusive.

“Hey Dipper, are you coming to Gideon’s party this Sunday? I heard it's going to be pretty wild...those sexy overseas exchange students are going to be there so I'm Definitely going…”

Pacifica Northwest chimed happily as she sat down beside Dipper at the Diner after school that day, insisting they should catch up after the wild semester. It was Saturday and Dipper had his phone ringer turned on to full volume; Bill hadn't called him on Friday night.

“Aw man...well I'm, kinda...not hooking up anymore...I THINK I'm seeing someone..”

Dipper stuttered awkwardly, a small flush creeping up the sides of his cheeks as Pacifica squealed, his senior holding his hands across the table and smiling excitedly.

“Oooohh!!! I'm so Happy for you Dipper! Who are they? Where'd ya meet? Tell me everything!”

The younger teen chuckled slightly, wringing his hands slightly as Pacifica took a look at his perfectly manicured nails. His insecurity ate at him. Despite the unconventionality of this relationship, They were at least seeing each other right? Not dating exactly but-

“We-well...I met him at your Autumn break party actually...the one you invited me to that involved some other publishers and authors…”

“Ooo! So he is a writer? That's pretty sexy, Dipper~”

She teased gently and the younger man smiled bashfully, Bill’s laughter somehow ringing in his ears.

“Well, not really, he is a lawyer but….Yeah, he is extremely intelligent and good looking. I'm lucky, we had a one night stand or something but, now I Guess we are seeing each other, not a thing exactly but...”

“Damn, my party was a private function so I pretty much know everyone there...who is it? Was it the tall redhead who smelt like cinnamon? He looked pretty into boys…”

Pacifica lamented, smile only growing as she saw how Dipper’s mood seemed to lift while talking about this mystery man, his usually dreary demeanour vanishing almost by the second

“Oh, no he is blonde...Tan skinned, these beautiful, piercing blue eyes. He said he knew you through a mutual Friend- his name is Bill Cipher.”

Dipper said almost dreamily and Pacifica raised an eyebrow, surprised almost

“Bill Cipher…? Who is that, I've absolutely never heard of him, and my Mother is in charge of the law firm in this city..”

The brunette blinked, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly and heaving a soft sigh

“That's the thing...he is so secretive about his work but, he has an attorney badge, I think he is working for a firm out of town or something. He is really busy right now.”

“Yeah, I guess I can understand why they can't have third parties sometimes…do you have a picture?”

She chirped, prompting Dipper to pull out his phone and scroll through his Gallery, smiling to himself as he pulled up a bored selfie Bill had sent him while he was working, Wendy only a yelling flash of red behind him. Pacifica whistled and raised an impressed brow towards Dipper

“Holy balls, he is at LEAST an 8 Dipper. That's a fucking amazing compliment coming from me. Your children will be gorgeous...”

“Thanks? I Guess..”

The brunette replied sheepishly as Pacifica handed his phone back to him, unable to stop himself from thinking about what Bill thought about kids and if he ever wanted them. But she suddenly grinned almost devilishly, leaning over the table, causing Dipper’s eyes to widen slightly with shock as he was knocked out of his thoughts

“Okay but seriously, how is the Sex though? He must be pretty good if he has YOU coming back for seconds...”

Dipper flushed red, pink dusting his pale features as he buried half his face in the lip of Bill’s oversized sweater he had chosen to wear out that day. His voice came out in an almost sensual sigh, the thought of being held in Bill’s grasp one more causing him to shudder.

“It's fucking amazing...but we haven't gone all the way since we met..”

The younger teen immediately tried correcting himself right after that and looked to Pacifica with some form of resignation.

“But- it's not the Sex I come back to him for...well I do like it but, there is something more...the way he treats me so...nicely? He may just be a sappy crude but at the same time he just cares so much, and is so sensitive to all the little things I'm-”

“Wow...sounds like you're in deep...he must be a real Daddy huh. I'm happy for you, Dipper.”

Pacifica joked, laughing slightly as their fries arrived and briefly checked her phone. But when she looked up at the unexpected silence, she was surprised by the redness filling in the highlights of Dipper’s cheeks, as if she had just made a revelation to him he didn't want to hear about.

“Dipper…?You know you can tell me anything right. Is...everything okay?”

Pacifica smiled gently, meeting the brown eyes of the younger man as he bit his lower lip a little, pausing before stumbling out.

“You're...right about him being a fatherly figure actually...but I don't want that to be our relationship. I'm not a kid.”

Dipper admitted softly, unconsciously wrapping his arms around his waist and rubbing the soft fabric of Bill’s beige sweater. Despite having already washed it, it still sorta smelt like Bill; a soft, earthy scent like a freshly rained forest, much unlike his own smell of antibacterial soap.

“It doesn't have to be. I think it's natural for him to want to take care of you...You should talk to him about it, talking is good.”

The blonde girl hummed thoughtfully as she stirred her drink with a straw, taking a sip briefly before continuing

“But If he ever belittles you honey, you have to tell ‘em straight up. Boys are dumb.”

Pacifica hummed and picked up a fry from their shared platter, prompting Dipper to eat as well.

“Well, yeah I Guess...I mean he doesn't ever talk down to me, he just...simplifies this reality. You know? Stops me from being anxious over something that isn't there, and just makes me fall apart. It's nice..”

He said softly after some coherent thought, smearing ketchup onto his side of the basket. Pacifica prefered her fries dry.

“Well, as Long as you two love each other, it's coming from a good place. I'm glad you can sorta settle down, Dip.”

And with that, Dipper felt himself catch a lump in his throat, but simply nodded to dismiss the conversation.

Love. It wasn't all that simple

************************

Some people are so deep;  
You just keep falling into them

It was Monday.

Bill hadn't called, no text, no voicemail, no answer.  
Dipper swallowed, placing his phone back into his back pocket as he swept up the dust flying around in the mystery shack, sighing gently. This was okay. Bill must have been busy with lawyer stuff. He was a grown man with a job after all.

But Dipper swore he was suffering withdrawal symptoms from a drug he had only huffed a few times; a man named Cipher; Piercing blue eyes, bronzed skin and looming frame, toned physique. Dipper shuddered as he remembered his deep, sultry voice; his gentle, soothing tone and patient demeanour, the way those stupid nicknames rolled off his tongue, along with his own quirky series of idiosyncrasies.

“Goddammit…”

Dipper cursed as he felt a hot flush cross his chest, imagining the magnificent sex he was going to have the next time he saw Bill, even if it was going to be the last time for a while. It was a coping mechanism at this point, really.

He only craved the touch of that man, whether he liked it or not, and hooking up with another stranger was going to be difficult for a while, even if it meant for book writing purposes.

Especially considering that special bond they had made unconsciously, or at least Dipper felt he had made. Dipper had made it a point to never get into close range of anyone he ever had a one night stand with before, much less talk to them; Bill was the Exception to the rule. But, they weren't exactly a couple; or at least society’s expectations of one.

According to dating websites this was what they called a Daddy Dom/Little girl relationship- but maybe Dipper was getting ahead of himself. Maybe that wasn't a relationship at all. Maybe this wasn't what that was and his level of self awareness wasn't all as heightened as he thought it was.

Who was Bill Cipher to him?; a good fuck, a loving Father figure that was both extremely attractive and intelligent? A weirdo whose self esteem falters in the strangest of scenarios and who has led a life Dipper knew nothing about?

The gaudy sound of the mystery shack phone ringing snapped him out of his mind numbing thoughts and he sighed, getting up and walking over to pick up the cell.

“Hello, Mystery Shack.”

“Dipper?”

“.......”

“Oh, thank goodness.”

The younger man froze for a second, that familiar rusty voice cutting through the silence that was the empty shack.

“Sugar Pine, it's me...baby, I need you to listen to me, okay?”

“Bill?”

Dipper managed softly, not able to contain his confusion as to why Bill was calling the mystery shack and not him after all this time.

“Yes, I'm...I can't tell you exactly what’s been happening, but...please delete my number from your phone…”

“...W-why would I do that?”

Dipper almost laughed as he cradled the phone to his ear with both hands, almost too happy that he got to hear Bill’s voice again.

“I lost my phone, some random criminal out there took it when he tried to steal evidence...Long fucking story...I'm sorry I couldn't call you sooner.”

Bill chuckled softly in response, his laughter fragmented over the shitty service of what must have been a public phone booth. Dipper smiled, a chuckle tickling his insides at the prospect of a dumb Suspect. He sighed softly, leaning against the counter.

“That's a Bummer, I was worried though...I thought you just ignored my calls”

“...I would never do that little tree..”

Bill said softly, a sudden seriousness to his tone as he sighed softly, the sound of nylon clothing shifting in the background

“I want to see you…I miss you a lot.”

“Then come over...or I'll go over, it doesn't matter- I'm free most of the time. I miss you too, Bill..”

Dipper admitted softly, hoping that it would soften the older man up and perhaps warrant him a visit.

“I can't...I'm up to my neck in reports right now and I can't even find the time to get a new phone...i'm so sorry sweetie..”

His voice dropped an all too familiar octave and Dipper felt his stomach do a flip, twisting in his gut. He was Putty.

“...Will you be free soon then? I really want to see you. I can come over, I won't disturb you...”

“I'm sorry, I really can't. Plus I'm a little sick right now. I wouldn't want you catching anything before your final submission of your work for the semester.”

He chuckled softly and Dipper keened a little, knowing that he could just show up right then and there and no one could stop him. He was his own person after all. Plus Bill was sick. Dipper wanted to take care of him above all else. He paused, almost drowning in thoughts and concerns as he tried to recall Ford’s recipe for Chicken soup.

“You're sick…?”

He managed, voice meek, almost cracking with concern

“....Be a good boy for me and listen...okay? I’ll be fine.. I promise I'll call you again soon.”

Bill interrupted gently, wanting to just smother Dipper with kisses. He could almost imagine the worry etched onto his cute face, and it was strange how that made him extremely sad but at the same time happy.

“.....okay.”

Dipper’s voice was soft and so unlike his usual snark, and Bill was tempted to push further. He knew what his tone could do to Dipper’s rationality.

Electra complex

“Oh, and your number, I promise I won't lose it this time”

Bill added almost ecstatically, scrambling for a piece of paper

“Oh yeah...8444 5467”

“Perfect...I love you, Dipper...take care.”

“Bye..you too..”

The line was hung up and Dipper found himself twirling with the Wire connecting the receiver to the phone, the device still pressed to the side of his face. He swallowed, visibly disheartened that he wasn't allowed to visit. Maybe Bill was really busy. Maybe it was best to let him take his time and finish his reports properly.

Bill wouldn't leave without telling him.

Right?

******************************

Hanging up the phone was probably one of the hardest moral decisions Bill had ever made in his life. Because he had sat at the inn cafe for the past 1 and a half hours searching through at least 12 phone books for the telephone number to the mystery shack, hoping that it would result in him being able to contact Dipper again. And it worked. It bloody worked.

But Khris was Impatiently waiting at the wheel, having honked the car multiple times already. It was time to go, he just wanted to make sure Dipper was safe. And he was.

“You shouldn't use that against him...I know you technically are a registered psychologist and all but..”

Wendy sighed as she helped gather a few phone books, looking to Bill.

“Use What against Who..?”

“Your voice, asshole. It makes me kinda sad that you can sorta control whatever that kid thinks like that. It's almost unreal…”

Heaving a small sigh in response, Bill picked up a few of the phone books and returned them to the owner, thanking the woman kindly and heading back to the van.

“There isn't a choice at this point and...I agree. It's fucked up, but then again so is he…”

Bill sighed softly and opened the back door for Wendy, who gave a soft hum in response and sat back down on the mattress in the back.

“Don't worry, I won't use it for the wrong things.”

He assured her, smiling a weak smile at just the thought of having a chance to hear Dipper’s voice again. He then motioned for the grumpy Khris to go have a nap as well while he took the wheel. It had been 3 days on the road, and still 5 hours to New York. He couldn't wait to get this shit sorted out and fly back to Gravity falls.

*****************

The next time Bill had called was when Dipper was in a Lecture. The teen had glanced down to see no caller ID yet again and immediately rushed out of the lecture hall, cupping his mouth as he answered

“Bill?”

“Hahaha..The one and only, Sugar Pine..”

The older man chuckled, leaning his elbow against the wall of the public phone booth as he almost cooed into the mic. He was so Glad Dipper was ecstatic to see him.

“Have you been good?”

“Y-yeah...I finished my work for submission but it still needs some refinement. I'll come over as soon as I submit it!”

He replied with almost an embarrassing amount of excitement, causing Bill to laugh slightly over the phone before realising he wasn't in Gravity falls anymore and he was lying to Dipper.

There in the dingy carpark of JFK airport on a Wednesday afternoon, where the dry New York gusts sliced at his cheeks and blew his rather greasy unwashed hair in his eyes; Bill just wanted to go home and sleep.

“That's good, baby...I'm proud of you.”

Bill said softly, almost hearing Dipper keen in delight at the praise, but he probably imagined it with the lack of sleep and all.

“Are you feeling better..? You’re babbling like an idiot, I'll bring some Chicken soup and come over…”

Dipper’s voice was almost harsh over the phone and Bill chuckled softly because he wasn't sure what else to say anymore. He never had anyone to really worry about him like that before besides Wendy.

“Don't come over, my place is a mess I...I'll come. I'll come over and cook your family Dinner on Saturday. How's that sound..?”

“Saturday is Pizza and take out night.”

“Mm, then how about Sunday?”

“Friday.”

“.....”

Billy briefly glanced down at his feet, shuffling his sneakers awkwardly as he thought thorough clearing all his reports with the CIA and how Long that would take. Sighing softly, he decided that if he rushed back now, he could find a flight for Friday and tell Dipper then. About everything. About how fucked up this all was and what was happening cause it was going to be over soon.

“BILL!”

Wendy called from behind him, waving her arms wildly as a pickup truck came to tug their van away, driven by someone from the CIA. Khris had climbed into the front seat of the truck and Wendy was getting ready to hoist herself into the rear open aired storage area of the pickup.

“Okay Sugar pine. Friday...I'll get myself a new phone before then too.”

“Bill...and..um.”

Dipper stumbled slightly, clearing his throat over the mic and Bill smiled unwittingly, closing his eyes as he patiently hummed in response.

“I...I want to have sex- after that too so...come prepared if you...need to do anything in advance… like extra clothes and..”

Bill felt his cheeks flush slightly, though he wasn't too sure if it was from the icy, dry air or not. On the other end of the line, Dipper had now walked into the bathroom just to Whisper that into the phone. Truth be told, he was lonely. More lonely than he should have been.

“Oh Dipper, that I can promise...I'll be looking forward to seeing you again..”

Bill sighed gently, chuckling deeply as Dipper laughed a little over the line, his voice pitched and melodious.

“BILL WE’RE LEAVING!”

“I have to go, I'll talk to you again before Friday, okay?”

“Mm.”

“I love you.”

“....Bill. I have to ask you something...”

“Yes?”

There was a pause, Dipper’s breath hitching as he spoke.

“What is this, Bill...what are we?-”

The line was hung up before Bill could even answer, Dipper’s voice soft and vulnerable. Wendy had snatched the public phone from him and hung up, grabbing the back of his bomber jacket and dragging him up the back of the truck as It made a sharp turn onto the highway.

“Fuck Bill, in case you haven't noticed we are on the run from a cartel. A fucking cartel! It's basically the mafia! We can't just snail around and-”

Wendy caught herself as she saw Bill look into his lap, rather defeated as he let out a Long sigh, letting her lecture him. Now the redhead had stopped because this wasn't normal, Bill usually wouldn't be one to take shit from anyone, especially Wendy hanging up his call like that and being a douche in general. She sighed sarcastically in response, green eyes falling on the way Bill was plucking at the scars on his hands, gloves stuffed into the pockets of his army green joggers. There was a small space of silence, Wendy watching Bill carefully

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't put us all in the spot like that, I just… fuck, I love him Wendy. I love him and I can't understand or explain how this all happened or how it all happened..”

He suddenly let out in a singular breath, looking at his rapped knuckles and the large scar on his right palm.

“I'm worried for him...and he..ugh. I lied. I fucking lied and I feel like shit.”

Bill’s tired laugh was almost swept away by the loud wind that whipped past his cheeks, the very same that blew Wendy’s hair out of place, covering her soft green eyes.

“Bill…”

“He is back there in that shithole, Gravity Falls, writing award winning essays and earning government scholarships, and at the same time, he is waiting for me. Waiting for me, a sloppy government lapdog, who cleans up messes and makes a career out of basically lying, to go over. He offered to come over and make me chicken soup because I lied about being sick!”

Bill swallowed, voice hollow as he ran a hand over his face, leaning back against the side of the pick up’s trunk, not caring that his speech held no context to Wendy whatsoever.

“It's not...it's more than sexual. I'm heading back on Friday.”

Bill said with Finality, piercing ocean blue eyes landing on Wendy, as if telling her there was no way he wasn't going then.

“...I'll book you a flight as soon as we get back to the office. K?”

Wendy replied softly, tucking the messy red hair behind her ear as she slid Bill’s ID and yellow lanyard containing his CIA pass and badge over to him, giving him a small smile, noticing how the fire was back in his eyes almost instantaneously

“We just need to go to the office and have our reports filed. I already edited them during the road trip so we are pretty much good to go.”

She continued, hearing Bill let out a small breath he had been holding in.

“.....Thank you, Wendy i don't know what I'd do without you.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ehH nothing much to say here except we're getting into the worst of things :'> poor little dipdop sObs but bill can't do much about anything and they are just starcrossed lovers at this point :'D 
> 
> Pacifica is like Dipper's Girl Friend that makes up a majority of his social life AHAHHA let's face it, Dipper probably does his nails in this AU 
> 
> Thank you all for your support! ^_^ stay tuned for more evil plot writing and learning about Bill's past in the next chapter


	12. Chapter 12

Bill shuffled through the files at his and Wendy’s room in the office, having cleared off their entire work desk just so they could finish up by the time night arrived. 

It was 9pm. The documents were sorted and printed and now, filed. They could go home.

“Fucking christ…”

Bill swore under his breath as he looked at the many few paper cuts on his fingers before slipping his gloves back on, glancing up at Wendy who had a decent amount of plasters on her hands as well. 

5 months of reports was no joke, and Bill was almost Glad they didn't stay longer.

“Tickets.”

The blonde announced with Finality as he cracked his knuckles and opened the door for Wendy, locking up the office and getting ready to head home. The redhead nodded and immediately pulled out her work tablet, pulling out a website for cheap flights as Bill shucked on his black coat and helped them both sign out for the day. 

“I feel like I'm your secretary at times, not your partner, ya know.”

She joked softly as she saw Bill forget the apartment keys on the way out, leaving them on the sign out counter. Bill turned back to glance at her, and Wendy noticed he was quite literally Jittering with excitement, blue eyes swirling with delight and childlike anticipation.

“Okay, maybe your mum. But it's fine…”

She smiled, happy that Bill was sorta back to his old self, that signature mischievous smirk splitting his face in two.

“I'm Gay and I'm happy and I'm Glad to be your Daddy- what else can I say?”

He then shrugged noncommittally and walked up the safe to retrieve their passports, humming softly in relief 

Dipper. He was going to get to go back and see Dipper. Even if it was just for a while, a week a day- he didn't care. He just had to tell him what he felt, and what was going on and the truth and what their relationship meant to him. 

Oh Dipper. He was wonderful, brilliant, smart, intuitive and so goddamn attractive. Bill swore he never found a pair of eyes that mesmerising, yet so murky, muddy and manipulative.

But the machine seemed to think otherwise, and simply responded with a soft beep, ejecting two slips of Green paper that Bill and Wendy knew all too well.

“Identities under Quarantine. STAGE 3.   
Members; William B. Cipher, Wendy Corduroy and Khris Sclera, under Governmental surveillance until 20th OCTOBER 2017. Failure to comply to restrictive activity will result in the use of force by The Central Intelligence Authority and possible termination.”

“What the fuck…”

Wendy stated, expression deadpan. Because Bill’s finger was still hovered above the button, his jaw agape slightly as he sucked in a deep breath, speechless for a moment. His chest swelled with an unbearable heat and he swore softly under his breath, determination deflating. 

“God...dammit.”

His fist landed on the wall beside the counter with a dull thunk, more defeated that actually upset. Bill’s never been one to associate violence with anger; he knew how it scared people when one got angry and violent, and the bystander was not even at fault. 

Wendy slid a hand onto his shoulder blade without hesitation, in a comforting manner, and doesn't know what else to say to make Bill feel any better about this situation.

“Quarantine…”

He smiled in a way that held no mirth, his other hand picking up the slips of paper and reading the rather Long list of allowed and disallowed activity.

“Stage three, no leaving personal quarters, no use of any form of public service, no ownership of private Mobile phones, no use of public internet services, no emailing, no contacting of anyone outside your sector…..”

The lexis of negation was getting to Bill and he gave up, running a hand through his messy blonde hair as Wendy began kneading his shoulders with a gentle sigh. 

“Bill...hey, I'm sorry..”

“..No..no, it's not your fault. It's not anyone’s fault. It's protocol. I should have expected this- and now...bloody hell, 4 weeks Quarantine? That's like..a month..”

“Maybe we can find a loophole…? I'm sure with all the time we have we can sorta figure something out.”

“Honey, in my 5 years here, I've had up to Stage 6 Isolation...there are no loopholes…”

Bill sighed with a slight chuckle, trying to look at least mildly amused to erase the brooding look of concern on Wendy’s face before continuing.

“We’re lucky they at least let us return to our own damn apartment and not shut us up in a cell in HQ.”

He crumpled the paper in his hands and tossed it lightly into the chute from which it came from, tsking slightly as he turned, Wendy’s hands sliding off his shoulders as her eyes fell. 

Bill was upset. clearly. 

“He can wait a month, Bill. He loves you doesn't he?”

“Does he?”

“How would I know...but what I'm saying is that I doubt he would look for anyone else just because you disappeared for a while...”

She explained herself calmly, leaping a few steps to catch up with Bill as he strode out the front door, shoving her hands into her coat pockets as they made their way down the cold street to the apartments near the office building. 

“.....I don't know, Wendy. You know what an Electra complex is. I don't know what he truly feels or what he wants from me...”

“You mean ‘Daddy issues’, right?” 

She narrowed her eyes at Bill’s use of unfamiliar terminology before continuing

“Well, I'll say you are probably as Dad material as it gets, I wouldn't worry about it too much.”

“That's not exactly the bulk of my concerns, I just don't want him to be sad...God, he must feel so alone…”

Bill whined slightly, the guilt slowly eating away at him more than anything. Wendy silently pushed the button to their apartment complex entrance and they walked in silence for awhile, shoes kicking up in the asphalt of the road, the sights and smells of New York returning to them. Their new apartment, their new life. The stench of smoke and soot, bright neon signs that pierced the ebony of the night, tall buildings that seemed to almost curve towards one’s vantage point, dumpsters, strays, veterans, the homeless, hookers. 

The starless night sky.

All the things that never did quite exist in their previous lodging at Virginia. Or Gravity falls for the matter. A new day, a new case, new Mission. New identity, new people, new prospects, new danger.

Bill missed the stars at the falls, remembering how the brilliant night sky seemed intangible, the black space above him convex and littered with an uncountable number of glittering white orbs. Darkness and a terrifying beauty, sucking him into a void that didn't even seem to exist. The Colour of nothing, yet the Colour of existing; black.

Black and blue,  
And red

Bill’s hands when he tore into the man that had tried to assault Dipper. Yes, the idiot had tried to Attack him first with nothing but a beer bottle along with at least 3 other of his douchebag friends one night after his pianist duty at the bar; but the way Bill had retaliated was not to defend, but to obliterate

He sunk his knuckles into warm flesh, wrenching stomachs, scratching arms and gripping ankles, spitting blood and rating dirt. The thing no one tells you about street fighting is that it isn't like in the movies or like on TV.

It's not so much skill, but strength, reaction time, and instinct. The more feral, the more wild and blinded by adrenaline you are, the easier it gets to rip into another human; because you forget you are human, or you don't see them as anything but prey. Because when someone comes at you from behind, you won't remember any one of the 80 techniques you were taught in karate lesson. 

“Muchacho más rápido, o estás muerto!”

(Faster boy! Or you're dead!)

Blood warm, coating arms, sticky like sweat and hot like the smell of iron. You don't even know if it's your own because you don't even feel pain. You learn from every punch you receive, give back with every ounce of anger you can muster.

“¡Levántate! no seas un cobarde!”

(Get up! Don't be a fucking wimp!)

That was why Bill always ended up falling back into his default setting of fight to the death. It was his life, his childhood, his asset.

La eMe España

(La eMe Spain)

It was just fist, to face, to eyes, protect only your neck and head, arms up and swing with your body weight. Hit cold, don't stop to think, on your toes, survive.

Until nothing is moving.

“Sólo el último en pie vivirá”

(Only the last one standing will Live)

You can only protect others when you are the strongest one alive.

**********************

9pm, Friday. 

The house was empty, Bill hadn't called and the rest of the family had went out for pasta at the diner instead while Dipper insisted he would stay and wait.

He had faith 

“Come on~ Dippy! Let's go get some Carbonara!! I'll let you split my pesto too~”

Mabel had whined, shoving her pink footed kitty socks into her worn out boots as she tugged at Dipper sleeves.

“A-ah...I'll wait here. I think Bill is just running late..i’m sorry you guys had to wait for so Long…”

Dipper apologised sheepishly, fiddling with Bill sweater that he had specifically chosen to wear that night. Ford gave him a kind and understanding smile, ruffling his hair gently as he walked past Dipper to get his coat.

“It's alright, Dipper, Bill is a lawyer. Overtime can be an understatement..”

He chuckled softly, making Dipper feel a little better about the whole situation. 

“Bah. If I learned anything about Lawyers, is that they are snakes! Snakes in the grass, Boy. How can a gentleman not even show up on time?” 

Stan muttered, earning a harsh nudge from Ford and a glare from Mabel at the way Dipper seemed to almost shrink back into his clothes.

“Hey now Grunkle Stan, you're always late but you're a gentleman. I think we should just wait it out.”

Mabel chastised softly, Stan grumbling a little in response before sighing and waving it off. She grabbed her coat and keys, then tucked her arms between each of her Grunkle’s elbows and smiled widely at Dipper, brown eyes full of hope and encouragement

“It's okay Dip-Dot, we will bring you two back somethin’ just in case! I'm sure he’ll show up sooner or later. Lock up okay?”

She beamed and Dipper nodded, waving them off with a small smile that disappeared as soon as he closed the door behind them. 

Bill hadn't called. He hasn't been calling. Well, that could be due to his work or his phone being stolen but. One phone call wouldn't hurt him right? Even if it was just a minute Long and a short walk to the phone booth.

Anxiety ate at the inner walls of Dipper’s chest as he recalled how Bill mentioned being ill. He really didn't want to assume the worst, but he knew what fevers could do to people. 

Deep breaths. Bill was fine. He was probably late getting dressed  
Dipper held his tongue, imagining the apologetic look on Bill’s flustered face as he would come tumbling through the front door any moment now, arms of random groceries he decided he absolutely had to go out and buy after work before coming because he wanted them fresh. 

He seemed like the kind to start shopping in the organic food section just because he knew it would taste and be better for those who ate his cooking 

Dipper felt a smile creep onto his face. 

Yeah. Definitely.

But an hour and a half later, Bill hadn't arrived, and Dipper was already chewing on his nails in apprehension, toes curling in the carpet. His smile had faded and he needed a smoke. Fumbling with his coat, Dipper locked up the house and slipped on a pair of sneakers before fishing out his box of Marijuana cigarettes, deciding a little nicotine could be good for his heart right now as well. 

Outside, the cold autumn winds blew hard, yet gently, kissing his face as he lighted his joint with shaky hands and sucked on the filter. 

He felt warm, swathed in the layers he was wearing along with his thick fleece joggers. As the weed slowly calmed his nerves, Dipper thought rationally, the smoke pummelling from his lips.

He should go to Bill’s house just to check up on him. It was near his school and hence, quite the distance but, he was willing to go. He needed to make sure everything was okay because Bill had been so strange the past 3 weeks Dipper hadn't seen him for, even if he called. There was no crippling anxiety, only absolute resolution as Dipper made his way to the bus stop, heart in his throat and hands shoved into his coat pockets.

***************************

Hopes too high,  
Mood too Low.  
Intoxicated by madness;  
I'm in love with my sadness.  
And it's been a while,   
I'm not strong anymore  
Because I've already been taught to be weak.

Dipper was shivering when he entered the warm apartment building. He was panting, shaking, legs wobbling because his gut was telling him things he didn't want to think about. Bill sick, Bill dead. Bill- gone. 

Because he couldn't wait 15 minutes for the bus to come and he wasn't just going to sit around like a damsel in distress. 

He wasn't going to cry. There was nothing to cry about, for fuck’s sake he was a 19 year old kid. So he chose to follow his gut, and ran. He ran until he felt his chest constrict, the cold air searing his lungs in the most horrendous of ways, as if every expelled breath was a sharp inhale of hot ice. He felt no sweat, only a thick Chill that rested heavy on his chest, knocking him back with every step he took forward.

Through the carpark, up the stairwell, level 3 unit 42. Dipper knocked, softly at first, leaning against the wall beside the closed door. He swallowed when there was no sound coming towards the door, still catching his breath before knocking again, this time more frantically. Silence greeted him like an old Friend, and Dipper swore his heart sunk from his chest right to his stomach. 

Hesitantly, he tried the doorknob, shivers wracking his frame as he twisted his wrist. It clicked open, startling him so much he actively took a step back. The lights were off, the power dark, the tiles cool with the heater soundlessly asleep. 

“Bill?”

Dipper called bravely, stepping into the apartment with almost little to no hesitation, slinking into the murky kitchen as he searched for a light switch. As his cold fingers found purchase on a switch, he flipped it, and the room was swathed in a warm, orange glow. 

But everything else was gone.

No laptops on the living room work desk, no utensils or crockery in the kitchen. The curtains were drawn and the couch didn't even have pillows anymore. Stomach knotting in apprehension, Dipper scrambled in and went straight to Bill’s room, breathing shallow as he pushed open the door frame and saw 

Nothing.

The same sad grey walls and cupboards, this time no yellow tinted clothing lining the shelves, no beige sheets on the bare mattress and nothing on the bedside dressing table. Everything was stripped bare and swept up, there wasn't even any trash in the bins

Dipper felt like he was in a show flat.  
Because It was like no one had ever lived in this house before.

At the moment, Dipper swore something broke inside him, his rationality torn between being upset and feeling betrayed. But he definitely wasn't heartbroken 

(“I know a bad person when I see one. He’s a biter, a snake in the grass.”)

Dipper felt his heart flutter for a moment before he set his teeth and gently closed the door to Bill’s room. He was not going to question his sanity, Bill did exist. Ford and Mabel saw his clothes. This he was sure of. But just to check-

Dipper gingerly took out his phone, cursing at himself for listening to Bill and deleting his number in hopes he would get a new one. But as he opened his gallery and looked at the pictures of Bill sleeping next to him, the photos of himself that he had sent to Dipper, even lewd ones had still been there. Bill’s Happy, seductive, crestfallen, delighted eyes, all captured in HD. Dipper almost wished he could have had an opportunity to create more memories with him just so he could have more pictures to admire.

The teen knew his therapist would kill him if he didn't delete those photos and sank into a horrible depression again. But he couldn't bring himself to do it, and he was going to will himself out of whatever he was feeling. 

This was just a fling. A one time thing. A Everyday thing. Suck his dick and now he is off to another place, another one. After all, what was Dipper ever expecting from men.

Sex. Abuse. Betrayal. 

It's not my fault that I was brought up this way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HeYo! I'm left with 2 more papers till my exam is over :> I can't wait to start writing this again aaaaa :'>
> 
> Okay but this chapter was heartbreak- I felt so bad after letting my Friend read it and that the beginning led her on into thinking there was going to be a happy moment admist all this :'> bUt Noooo
> 
> Aaaaaaa POOr tHem! Long distance relationships suck enough but Now diPdot knows tHe tROoth!!!? What to do :'>
> 
> SIghs tbh these characters are fabricated from bits and pieces of the personalities of my close friends and mostly from me as well- I tend to place myself in these positions to make moral judgements and wOw I can be rash sometimes 
> 
> Btw i think Ima start on double updates per week if time permits me so :'D love hearing from y'all~


	13. Chapter 13

“One peach and lime Daiquiri please.”

Too lanky, too hairy, too short. 

Bad hair, uncut nails, married. 

“Ima need your ID sir.”

“I didn't bring it.”

Dipper said smoothly, pausing from easing himself into the barstool and looking around to meet the cold green eyes of the bartender. He was probably mid 40s, hunky build and greased back red hair. Dipper tilted his head in a way he knew would prod some guilt into the softhearted.

“I’ll….just show myself out then-” 

Dipper smiled, noticing the Bartender didn't even flinch. There were plenty of random clubs and pubs in the area he could go to instead anyways.  
As he turned his back on the grumpy man, he felt a pair of eyes follow him from the boy in a brown leather jacket sitting near him. Deciding that the night was still young anyways, Dipper was just about to grab his coat when the sound of footsteps behind him prompted him to turn.

Lightly tanned skin, brown eyes and black curly locks that curled around his ears and down back of his neck. Freckles, a kind, warm smile. Cute

Hand tattoo, he was holding a drink.

“Hi, the bars around here can be a little strict since it's near schools. Here.”

Dipper’s eyes flickered up to meet his, the voice that spoke gentle and with a little of a Latino slur; a piercing in his right ear.

Gay. Definitely gay.

“Sorry, I don't take drinks from strangers...especially if I didn't see them get it.”

Dipper said softly in a way that was apologetic, honestly appreciating the flirtatious notion, but that wasn't how he was rolling.

“Oh, it’s fine, I'm Carlos.” 

The boy said, proffering a handshake instead and Dipper was rewarded with an ecstatic smile that he found great warmth in. Carlos. Cuban?

“Dipper.”

“Cool.”

A small silence 

“...you're pretty cute.”

“Mm. Same to you…”

A tattooed hand was lifted to scratch the back of a tanned neck. Nicely trimmed nails and large palms, Long, elegant fingers; Dipper was honestly enticed. Maybe he didn't care anymore.

“Could I..invite you back to the bar and order you another drink?”

He was evidently shy but trying to be confident without being too rude, and the younger boy definitely could appreciate that.

“Are you flirting with me?”

Dipper caught himself a moment too late as the question left his lips, a smile creeping across his face as he saw Carlos laugh a little.

“Only if it means you're interested.”

His voice was melodious. He didn't look like he was from around here; and it was only then did Dipper catch sight of the white and black striped lanyard tucked into the pocket of his blue jeans; foreign exchange student, the ones Pacifica was talking about. 

“I don't mind if you don't kiss and tell…”

Dipper hummed softly, flushing slightly at the way The taller man growled playfully and gently tugged him forward by his belt loops with a Long finger, urging him to come sit in the booth near the bar. 

2 drinks and 3 shots of whiskey later, Dipper was sucking face with a stranger one year his senior, after agreeing on a drunken rant about the UN’s involvement in Russian airspace. Hands were on his thighs, gripping his waist, tongue devouring the foreign taste of Redbull and vodka. As Dipper ran his fingers through those thick dark locks, he sucked in a breath, feeling the older man sliding his mouth down to his jaw, Down Dipper’s neck, mouthing at his jugular in an almost primal and animalistic manner. The brunette’s felt his breath hitch, his mind unconsciously flitting to the way Bill would nuzzle his sharp nose to his jaw, breath warm and heavy

“Jesus…”

Dipper gasped out softly, managing to grip onto Carlo’s shoulder and baring his neck compliantly, his dick getting undeniably harder in his joggers. The alcohol buzzed in his system, numbing everything but the pleasure and the heat pooling in his stomach. He felt so Bad.

“Mmm...you wanna take this somewhere else..?”

The Latino mumbled, and Dipper hesitated, lust driving his logic as he looked into the seductive brown eyes of the boy before him, mussed hair and reddened Cupid bow lips. 

Fuck it.

They spent an evening at the motel nearby, Dipper getting his fill both literally and figuratively as he was fucked thoroughly by a man he honestly wasn't even remotely attracted to. And not because Carlos wasn't handsome or intelligent in any way, it was just because at the back of his eyelids it was Bill.

It was the blonde man who was pivoting into him, hands gripping his thighs and fucking him into the mattress in a way that was almost animalistic, feral and untamed. He needed it, the stimulation, but he felt guilty when he moaned for Bill, not for the great sex he was having with with a student from the science sector. As his fingers gripped the sheets, toes curling in pleasure; ass up, face down, with a strong hand pressed gently to the back of his head, Dipper Keened, sobbing in ecstasy as his prostate was nailed. 

Oh Bill, Bill, Bill

****

He texted his Family, saying he wasn't coming home for the night.

“Call me...yeah? Maybe we can do this again sometime…”

11.45pm

A kiss was planted to his forehead, a tattooed hand smoothing through Dipper’s curly locks before he left the room. Dipper didn't say anything in response, simply nodding as Carlos spoke, and finished his 2nd cigarette before stubbing it in the ashtray.

Just the usual. Conversation, sex, smoke, maybe more conversation and sleep.

Dipper was all alone again, curling up into the sheets and burying his face in Bill’s sweater that the Older Latino had ripped off him the moment they hit the bed.

Guilt ate at him. But fresh influx, new inspiration flowed through his veins, pounded in his heavy head and stubborn heart. He was going to write again. 

He needed this, and Bill probably didn't give two shits about him still sleeping around. But it still felt bad, knowing that in the end, he would never find someone who would keep him as much as he wanted to keep them.

************************

“Bill, I swear to god, you are not going out of here to get a phone. Mind you, we are still being tracked.”

“I don't care. I need to talk to him-”

Bill’s voice was dry and tired as he threw on his coat, the warm rays of a new morning filtering through the unblinded windows of the small, dingy New York apartment. Outside, the sound of heavy traffic were already ringing in the thick, cool air of late autumn. He hadn't slept well despite the pure exhaustion that made him shut down in the first place, his mind elsewhere, guilty conscious like a pea under his soft, comfortable mattress.

“Are you out of your Goddamn mind?”

“What is the cartel going to do? Kill me?”

The blonde replied in slight disbelief, but it scared Wendy to think that he actually said it while obviously being unconcerned at that very prospect.

“Yes, Bil they'll do exactly that. You're gonna put us all in danger…”

Wendy tried again, this time in a gentler tone as she fixed her bathrobe and looked up to Bill in an almost pleading manner, holding on to his forearm as he reached for the door knob. This made him stop and hesitate, turning back to look to her and meet her gaze. He was definitely conflicted.

“.........I...I won't stay here after this. I'm renting a car and moving out of here till quarantine is over.”

He then proceeded to go back into his room, Wendy trailing behind him

“Bill, no...you know that's not my point. I made an oath as your partner to always stay by you. I just don't want you get hurt.”

Her voice was soft and more sad now, eyes downturned and concern thick in her tone as she leaned on the doorframe beside Bill who was already laying out clothes on the bed to take with him. The blonde male continued packing for a while, obviously deep in thought before he stood and put his hands up. He sighed and paused to suck in a deep breath, adjusting the watch on his wrist as he looked to the ground, morally conflicted.

“Don't make this harder than it has to be...I know how much it hurts. I know you love him. But this may not be the best way to do it…”

Wendy continued, honestly hoping she could change his mind; but Bill had always been a stubborn one.

“I'll walk to the furthest possible telephone booth from here and ring him up… just this once. Lock the doors. Trust me, Wendy.”

He finally managed, looking up with a sadness in his eyes Wendy hated to see. Bill was like a Brother to her.

“Bill…”

“I have to do this.”

“......”

Wendy kept silent for a moment, Bill adjusting his bow tie and rolling up the sleeves to his mustard yellow button up. 

“Fine. But don't cause a commotion, okay?”

***********************

A 5 kilometre walk later, and Bill was standing by a Gas station that didn't even have a mini mart near it. Just an outpost. Jesus Christ he hoped he wasn't lost, because no phone meant no Google maps. Tentatively, he put in a quarter and inhaled sharply, dialing Dipper’s number that he had scrawled on his arm with a sharpie a few days back.

“..........”

The line was ringing, but it was taking longer than usual. Bill shuffled his feet impatiently, toes curling as he glanced around briefly, wrapped up in his black coat that was shielding him from the freezing morning wind.

9.20am

Dipper was still curled up in the sheets of the motel bed, Bill’s sweater tucked into the crook of his neck as he inhaled sharply, the sound of his phone ringing on full volume snapping him awake.  
He groaned, rolling over with his eyes partially shut, grabbing around blindly for the device and answering without even checking the caller ID 

“Hello.”

“Hello Pine tree...it's Bill, I'm so sorry baby...I have so much to tell you, please don't get mad yet…”

Dipper froze, the hand that pressed the phone to his face tensing up in disbelief.

“.....Bill?”

“Yes, Sugar Pine.”

“Oh my god…”

Dipper swallowed, hiccuping slightly as he covered his mouth with one hand to silence a soft whimper, his throat constricting.

“Hey, is everything okay? I'm sorry if I woke you…”

The spinning headache from the alcohol, the warmth of sticky sweat and dried cum clung to Dipper’s skin beneath the covers as he sat up, shuddering from the pain in his hips.

“....Mmm..”

Dipper managed, feeling like a child that had just drawn in his Mother’s lipstick all over the walls as he could literally feel the blood drain from his features. He felt sick.

“I'm so sorry about Yesterday...I really couldn't make it honey I fell asleep after-”

“I know Bill...I know you're gone- don't…stop lying, to me…”

Dipper held back a sob at the notion that Bill was still playing on with his fantasy tale. He didn't even know what was the truth anymore. Fighting back tears as he drew his lower lip between his teeth, breath coming out in soft hiccups

“Don't...lie to me.”

Bill swallowed, feeling his blood run cold, almost congealing in his veins as Dipper caught him off guard, trying to get a grip on himself as he opened his mouth to speak. But no words came out

“I went to your apartment last night...when you didn't come...and I know. I know.”

Dipper continued, shutting his eyes and burying his face once more in the beige fabric that smelt like the forest.

“Dipper, I'm so sorry. I couldn't get…”

“Don't. Bother. Don't bother explaining to me...I don't want to hear it..!”

Dipper was crying before he could even stop himself, tears clouding his vision, things he never wanted to hear or know. The room was warm and the rusty heater was loud, drowning out the noisy thoughts swarming in His head.

“.....Baby, please...I'm sorry, please promise that you’ll listen to me…”

“No- I...don't talk to me anymore..I can't take it. You say you love me then you do this-?”

The words that left Dipper’s lips were bitter, childish, angry, and frankly shocked the teen himself. Impulsive, accusational. 

“I don't even know what is the truth anymore Bill- is everything just a lie to get you laid?”

No, he knew that wasn't true. Bill had never asked him for any sexual favours. He had been nothing short of a gentleman. He loved Bill. He wanted Bill, and he was just torn between painful forgiveness and leaving the heartache behind. His words were cutting; sharp like the shattered remnants of a porcelain heart.

“But I do...I love you so much...it hurts me, Little tree, that I can't tell you everything right now.”

Bill spoke carefully, slowly. He knew Dipper wasn't stupid, but the partial disbelief was to be expected. There was no use in trying to lie again or assure him; the gig was up. He gulped, chest tightening as he unconsciously clung to the metal box which held the receiver, licking his dry lips and looking at his feet, looking for the words to say. Silence consumed them, but Dipper couldn't bring himself to hang up.

“I love you so much I almost got everyone killed.”

Bill finally chuckled in defeat, hearing the sheets shuffle slightly as Dipper sat up in shock.

“...Killed?”

“I'm sorry Sugar Pine, I'm...Right now I'm not supposed to be talking to you but… I have to. I give up, little tree, I don't want to keep you in the dark-”

“Wait...I don't understand…”

Dipper rubbed his Temples, still processing the new information and rather startled that Bill was saying all these things. His head hurt. His heart hurt, and Bill’s blinding sunshine smile was still ringing in his mind

“It's okay baby… just know I can't talk to you for a while, a month give and take. I love you, I love you and I'll come back to you as soon as I can. I miss you. I think of you all the time….”

“........”

Dipper couldn't muster anything but a choked sob, gripping the sheets as Bill heaved a deep sigh over the line, silence eating away at the resignation he had held from before.

“Please say something, Dipper.”

Bill said quietly, hearing the small sniffles come from across the line.

In the quiet of the dull motel room, in the twisted sheets of a casual affair, hung with the delightful stench of another man’s tenders as sunlight dribbled through broken curtains, Dipper let out a broken moan of what he could only assume was despair, head in his hands

“Bill...don't...I'm...i'm sorry..”

“Don't apologise- Dipper, you have done nothing wrong. Okay?”

The blonde male interjected, speaking sternly into the phone as he straightened himself and sighed. His heart strings twisted at the thought of Dipper thinking this was his own fault as he continued.

“It's not you, baby, it's work...it's me, I'm sorry...please promise me you'll be okay till I'm able to come back.”

Dipper swallowed, trying to get a hold of himself as he looked around the dingy, morning lit room; used condoms littering the hardwood floors, spilling their rank contents across the surface. Clothes were strewn about the dresser along with crushed cigarette packs, cigarettes stubbed like demolished castles in the ashtrays. 

“Dipper…? Hey, talk to me sweetie…”

Bill’s voice was soft and comforting, gentle and warm; thick, viscous honey that stuck to his ribs. Dipper felt like he was going to vomit.

“I'm so sorry...I know how much I've hurt you.”

Dipper swallowed, hearing the sincerity in the older man’s voice as he gripped the soiled bedsheets. He swung his legs off the side of the bed, nails scraping his bare thighs in apprehension.

“But I'm willing to commit to this. I'll promise, no more secrets when I see you again. I'll tell you everything…”

The older man spoke softly, slowly, as if he was breathing right next to Dipper’s ear, causing the younger male to let out a small whimper as another unintentional tear slid down his cheek.  
He couldn't take it; the guilt, the shame, the desire that still lingered in the fog of vehemence that clouded his thoughts

He hung up.

His phone rang multiple times after that, but Dipper couldn't even bring himself to answer. He simply snuggled against the oversized sweater that belonged to a soul that wasn't even here, feeling soundless cries wrack his frame. He wasn't even sure what to feel anymore; he had never even planned on having his heart broken.

The phone rang for another 4 intervals, before Dipper decided rationally that he couldn't possibly cry the whole day away. Flinging the phone under the covers, he dragged himself out of bed to the shower, letting the warmth wash away the slick that coated him from the night before. 

He had a lecture at 2 anyways

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AhhhH balLs sorry this took me so Long to update- I've been so busy with social commitments :'>
> 
> But look Dipper is a little Hoe Gg- I feel bad but like come on this is the way life is- let's hope shit doesn't get worse from here on out :'> /foreshadowing tbh/
> 
> /+10 points if you get the Panic! Reference/
> 
> Double updates next week :> stay tuned!!!


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: major angst and destruction ahead /throws ashes tbh/

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lack of response to comments :'> I've read all of them through and I really appreciate all the support and time taken to communicate your thoughts to me ^_^ really keeps me going! Thank you so much ❤️❤️❤️❤️

“Want me to blow his head off with a shotgun?”

“Stan-”

“Cause you know i’ll do it, right?”

“N-no… it's okay Grunkle Ford, Stan...it's my fault for expecting so much.”

Dipper said softly, trying hard to pull up the collar of Bill’s sweater to cover up the line of fresh Hickies on his neck. Dipper had never been more embarrassed in his life, even though his family was being really nice about all this. Ford sighed softly and took a sip of his Coffee, deciding that he should let Stan handle this one first as the latter cleaned his glasses and looked to the boy sitting before them. 

“....Did he hurt you? Physically, I mean.”

Stan asked gently, eyeing the fresh bruises on Dipper’s neck; the usual tell tale sign that he had been hanging around Bill. The teenager looked up and shook his head frantically, biting his lower lip before murmuring, the slightest hint of affection still in his tone

“N-no...he wouldn't ever hurt me that way.”

Stan nodded slowly, looking over to Ford to see if he had anything to say, the twin arching a brow over the lip of the Mug, noticing Dipper looking to him as well with now teary eyes. Ford always had the right words to say; the best advice, as Stan put it.

“Dipper...you're a smart kid. You made decisions that you saw fit at that point in time...and it's okay; it's okay that sometimes you can be wrong about certain things. It's called life. And no one will ever master that.”

The scientist chuckled just a little, prompting Dipper to let out a small breath before giving a tight lipped smile in response, tears still threatening to spill over. He looked like he was about to implode.

“Love is important, but sometimes we have to let things go their course. It's not always going to play out the way you want it to...I'm not saying he’ll come back, Dipper, but I'm also not saying he won't.”

The twins gave him time, the younger man obviously struggling to get the words out, but soon there was a familiar pitter-patter of Footsteps outside the front door, and it opened to reveal a panting Mabel, a box of donuts in hand and a concerned expression on her face. 

“Dipper…”

Mabel’s expression seemed to soften even more at the sight of her teary eyed twin, and she immediately went over to hug her little Brother, placing the food on the table mid way and even forgetting to close the front door. And that was all it took for Dipper to start crying again, clinging to his Sister and feeling her rub small circles on his back to soothe him. Her soft sweater smelt like flower shops and vanilla pastry, bringing with it the damp smell of a dreary autumn.

The scene may have been a bit awkward for a stranger to witness; a tall boy sitting in an antique chair and crying into the chest of a girl that was significantly smaller that he was; but these were the Pine twins, and their bond was something special that no one had to actively come in between.

“It's okay Dip-dot…”

Stan and Ford smiled at the sight of Mabel comforting her little Brother, her nails gently stroking through his unruly locks as she kissed his head.

;

Dipper had then come clean about the whole thing to his grunkles and Mabel; about how he actually met Bill and how he had made him feel; it was terrifying, but Dipper knew he had better put it out there before his emotions got out of hand again. He knew his family wouldn't judge him, and Stan; the most probable leader of the pack didn't even have a i-told-you-so to utter. They knew this was just part and parcel of growing up, and The Stans knew exactly what they were signing up for the moment they signed the legally binding contract to get the Twins away from their abusive parents. 

Dipper’s chronic anxiety, depression, his problem with Father figures and authority. They were his friends, more than his legal guardians, and Dipper knew that he shouldn't have to make their life even harder than that. Mabel always helped to ease the awkward away when things got to a standoff, but now it was easier for everyone to get along and be open about things. Everyone knew that Dipper’s problems were exactly why he was the way he was; a genius, an extroverted introvert. Dipper loved them; Stanford, the best in home therapist and advice machine/thesaurus, Stanley, the protector and voice of a rebellion, and Mabel, everyone’s ball of fuzzy warm sunshine, more than anything else in the world.

So that morning after they had all settled down and dug into the Doughnuts Mabel had brought home, Dipper felt a grateful tear slip down onto his chocolate glazed dessert, but caught himself smiling before anyone could notice. Maybe he really didn't need to find someone else for now; he had his family.

************************

“Bill, you've been lounging around and hogging the bloody couch for 3 hours now- get up.”

Wendy growled, two coffee cups in hand, kicking Bill’s shin as she walked over to where the blonde man was laying down, sprawled out on the Loveseat couch that was way too small for him. He groaned and scratched his bare stomach, his T shirt hitching up over his belly button as he flung his other hand over his eyes and refused to move, like a dead man on the pillows. The redhead sighed, fuming as she placed the cups down and moved Bill's head and shoulder up, Seating herself down comfortably with Bill's head on her lap.

“You're a fucking wreck and it's only been a week into Quarantine, asshole.”

Wendy mumbled, flicking Bill on the nose as she switched on the television to watch her pre recorded Seasons of Lost. She was wayyyy behind on a series that was now only remembered by its memes. The older man whined and massaged his tired eyes with the pads of his palm, opening his eyes to see that the redhead was not even sparing him a second glance.

“You're watching Lost, and it's only been one week into Quarantine…”

“Shut up.”

She muttered in response, clamping a hand over Bill’s mouth as she reached for her coffee, sipping it slowly as she watched the Programme in relative silence. Bill sighed beneath the hand on his mouth, noting briefly how Wendy’s hand smelt like her usual lavender hand cream that Bill had gotten her for Christmas 2 years back.

It's been about one and a half weeks since he had contacted Dipper, and his heart still ached for his forgiveness.

“I don't wanna hear a single word about that Kid. Just relax and stop being so depressed. Lost is pretty good once you get into it.” 

Wendy broke the silence briefly, and Bill nodded slowly, almost too obediently. They had been partners since the very start, and have been one of the longest lasting duos in their department.

“Odio esto lo extraño mucho….”

(I hate this, I miss him so much…)

“Je ne comprends pas l'espagnol.”

(French: I don't understand Spanish)

“Exactamente, por lo que no tendrás que escucharme hablar de mi pequeño pino”

(Spanish: Exactly, so you won't have to hear me talk about my little pine tree.)

Wendy narrowed her eyes at him, noticing how he was grinning almost sardonically, yet his blue eyes seemed to shimmer with a certain sort of sadness.

“Él es tan vicioso ... lindo”

(He is so vicious…cute) 

“Okay, now you're just doing it to annoy me.”

“No, no lo soy.”

(No, I'm not.)

Bill laughed passively, nuzzling his nose into Wendy’s palm slightly as she gently covered his eyes, his shoulders visibly relaxing.

“Sleep Bill.”

“But you made me Coffee.”

He objected softly, honestly feeling that sleep sounded amazing at this point and he was so comfortable with the warmth of another human beside him.

“I can finish two cups and have enough caffeine in me to clean this shitty apartment later on.”

“That's no fun without me...you know how much I love cleaning.”

“You can cook instead.”

Wendy sighed, knowing Bill was just being a sarcastic piece of shit and she just wanted to watch her show without seeing her lovesick partner suffer. Planting a small kiss to his forehead, the redhead focused back on her show, feeling Bill silence himself almost immediately, falling into a gentle slumber.

*********************  
The next week passed relatively easily. Between Seasons of lost and practicing their persona of a married couple for their new case, Bill took his mind off the prospect of a distressed Dipper, and decided there was nothing much he could do till his Quarantine was up. 

But when they received a Fax from The agency asking them to head over to the main office all the way in Maine, Bill couldn't help but raise a brow in suspicion, knowing that their quarantine couldn't possibly be up yet. He held on to the paper, debating on whether or not following up on the instructions was smart as he sipped on his coffee for the day, lazing around in his boxer briefs and a brown shirt.

“Whatzat~?”

Wendy chirped as she pounced onto Bill’s shoulder, curiously peeping over to see the CIA logo stamped onto a faxed document.

“Weird. They don't usually send Faxes during Quarantine...I mean it's happened before but..”

Bill hummed thoughtfully, passing the paper over to Wendy who looked it over a few times and checked the Logo

“I mean...it seems legit. I don't think it's a hoax. Look, it even has the return address on it. 

She mumbled, heaving a soft sigh at the uncertainty of their situation. Wendy had only ever been under stage 2 Quarantine before, so Bill was really the one with more experience here. The older blonde nodded slowly, knowing they couldn't possibly just Ring someone up and ask for help and risk exposing their location once again. But not responding to a call to duty from the HQ could lead to dire consequences as well. 

“i’ll just drive over to check it out...Maine is about 3 hours away.”

“I’ll come with you-”

“No...its better you stay here and await further instructions anyways. I'm sure there will be more faxes coming through if this is legit.”

“Mmm…”

Wendy whined in protest, only to have Bill smile and press the paper to her face as he walked to the bathroom to get ready. 

“It's fine...besides, someone needs to be a good Wife and watch the house…”

“Ugh- shut up you Gay asshole!”

Wendy groaned and peeled off a sock to throw at a grinning Bill who immediately slipped behind the bathroom door to get changed. 

*****************

“Bye.”

“Bye. Bring me back a bagel or something.”

Wendy hummed as she passed Bill a water bottle through the window along with his coat. 

“Will do. Lock up, okay?”

The older man hummed as he started up the engine to their hardy black Mercedes in the middle of the empty open air carpark, chuckling softly as Wendy slipped off the window sill and smiled up to him. 

“Look at you! Being all responsible and Husband-like!”

She said rather loudly, her light hearted voice echoing throughout the almost carless lot, grinning wildly as Bill rolled his eyes

“Don't be an asshole honey-”

He then laughed and blew her a fake kiss to which she responded by simply sticking out her tongue and rolling her eyes as well, turning to walk back to the apartment elevators. She heard the sound of rubber tires squeaking against the concrete, but just as she pressed the button and stepped into the closing doors;

There was a blinding flash, followed by a muffled roar, a loud, guttural sound of metal moaning as a panicked white noise ate through the silent air

The elevator doors were closing

A fiery eruption of light and sound spraying dusty debris into the air, soot searing the corner walls as the vehicle was annihilated.

Tinnitus

But Wendy could see it all happen. Ringing- sounding- silence-

As she wedged her hands in between the closing elevator doors, she stumbled out, scrambling for purchase as she felt her lips mouth his name in a panicked scream.

Bill

Her heart rocked in the fury of the shock waves, skin hot, eyes burning, minute particles of debris peppering the White of the concrete floor. A black pummel of smoke rose to engulf the surrounding cool air, polluting its contents with a dying agony.

No sound, no assonance, no echo.

Fire

Metal rubble lying in a tangled heap; Warm flames engulfing a charred skeleton of what once was and used to be. She was screaming, unable to hear a thing as she immediately shattered The glass of the fire alarm button with a fist, signalling the downpour of artificial rain. As security started flooding the area, Wendy felt the cold wetness drench her, legs moving on their own accord towards the heated pile of now blackened, charred rubble. 

“BILL!”

Minutes must have passed, because the twisted metal was cool under her fingers as she grabbed at Debris, boots crunching on broken glass. Her own panicked voice resounded loudly in her ears, blood and soot staining her hands 

“Ma’am, we’re going to have to ask you to step back from the rubble-”

“LET GO OF ME-!”

She was seized backwards, men in blue uniform crowding around her, tugging her back as more of them filtered through the rubble, white gloves turning black with soot

A glimpse of a patterned yellow shirt.

“CALL THE FUCKING AMBULANCE! DON’T JUST STAND THERE”

She yelled, half sobbing as she saw Bill slumped in a pill of shattered glass as the men yanked away what must have been a tire, blood littering his clothing, soaking his light hair a dark red, his arm twisted grotesquely against the doorframe. His head was tilted almost sensually against the backrest, blood trailing down the corner of his thin lips and dribbling in a steady stream onto the collar of his shirt. Glass pierced his smooth, supple skin, half his face covered in a Gory, bloody mess of carnage and bone and Oh god. At least he was in one piece. 

There were sirens, yells, fire extinguishers as a warm, orange blanket was draped over Wendy’s shoulders. Everything happened so quick, and the next moment they were extracting Bill from the mangled metal mess, placing his limp body onto the stretcher along with his coat and his wallet. Wendy bolted.

“You- you have to let me go with him- I'm his Wife- please-!”

She tugged at the sleeves of the men in white, glancing down frantically at Bill’s charred body in the back of the ambulance, her eyes flitting to the heart monitor that was taking his pulse.

“Ms, you are in shock, we need you to-”

“Shut up....God...”

Wendy finally pulled herself together, throwing the facade of a distressed women onto the ground along with the orange blanket and pulling out her CIA lanyard from her coat, flashing it briefly. 

Fucking bureaucrats

She shoved the man aside, green eyes fiery and climbed into the back seat, shutting the ambulance doors and glaring at the nurse still dawdling with the IV.

“Drive! There isn't a need to check his pulse if he is fucking going to die in this damn van!”

She yelled to the driver who quickly started up the engine and set the sirens on full blast, metal equipment rattling away as the comforting sound of a steady beep of a heart monitor filled the back of the van. Wendy heaved a soft sigh of relief, breath shuddering as the cold of her wet clothes once again wracked her frame. 

“You...you fucking idiot..”

She cursed softly, tears finding their way into her eyes yet again as she gingerly held onto Bill’s left hand, unbuckling the cracked watch from his bloodied wrist and slipping it into her coat pocket. It was like he was sleeping almost, tousled hair, Long lashes fanning over his singular eye, lips parted, the blood now wiped from his Chin as an oxygen mask was placed over his nose. The only thing missing was the left side of his face, stained an ugly mess of indiscernible crimson.

********************  
You never know what you want in life  
Where you're going  
What you're doing  
until you realise  
what you're going to die for;

“What's wrong…?”

“Nothing...k-keep going…”

Dipper gasped as the boy above him nodded and thrusted once more into his tight heat, eliciting a shudder from the smaller teenager as he buried his hands into foreign locks, scenting the man above him. Like the ocean, warm and comforting, Tan skin, rippling muscles. The shark fang necklace was cool as it was dragged across Dipper’s wet skin, his body hot under the shade of a tree, warmed from the inside out despite the cold Early winter weather. Behind them, the party thrummed with gentle music, the others distracted by the company of the rest, a solid, tattooed hand gripping his thigh.

“Close-”

“Okay…”

The Boy’s voice was gentle by his ear, and had Dipper unfurling beneath him as he thrust a few times more before pulling out, jerking both him and the younger man off as the waves crashed in the distance.

“Hh-ha…Carlos-”

“Christ..”

Sloppy kisses, lingering touches, bated breaths as Dipper peered up at the morning sky above him, letting the sun rays blister his skin as cold sweat wracked his frame, the man above him now draping himself gently on his lithe body along with a makeshift blanket. He felt alive. And it felt good, to know what it was like to live for himself again.

“You okay-?”

“Yeah…”

“Here, put this on…”

The tanned surfer reached over Dipper, the younger teenager’s fingertips gliding across his solid body in the warmth of the afterglow. Carlos chuckled softly in a way that made Dipper’s heart wringe with guilt, and he was handed a black hoodie which he put on gratefully. Curling up next to The exchange student on the rattan mat they laid on, staring into the misty, cloudless sky made Dipper almost nostalgic. As if this was all coming back from a past life he hadn't lived before.

This was fine. The Sex was good- 

At least, he wasn't alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOOohhh mannnn this chapter is a fuckin heArtbreaker I'm-----
> 
> SiGhs. Tbh this whole starcrossed lovers thing is really getting me down---- BILL YOU FUCKIN MORON AAAA I hope this wasn't too much heartbreak for everyone- I promise things will start looking up but I warned u about shit gOin downnnn
> 
> This IS a grunge fic after all lmao
> 
> My beta described my Fic as a hard slap across the face as I drag your limp body across a hot concrete pavement. And yes, I agree I am a hOrrble author :'>
> 
> But angst!!! Everyone loves some of that! Injuries, promiscuity, live hatred jealously blahblahblah--
> 
> oh I SuRE DO hOpe BIlL wiL Abe OkaY
> 
> Not everyone is who you make them out to be :> Not everyone is as perfect as they appear to be in a world where liars keep us safe from the dangers of the universe :>>>>>> /winks with both eyes/ 
> 
> Have some virtual tissues if you need them- I know I do cause exam results are coming back in hoooOoo boi


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm so sorry for the late update :'> school life has been a little rough and I've just been so exhausted... I actually had this chapter ready a Long time ago but I didn't like the way this was going so I switched it up a bit :'> hope u enjoy this update!

“...it's been 5 days. You know the directors won't be happy about this.”

Khris uttered, sinking into a plastic chair beside Wendy with 2 cups of coffee and a tray of Fruit from the cafeteria, setting it down on the bedside table. Wendy didn't even move a muscle, still rolling Bill’s cool fingers between her own, eyes downcast, the life support machine he was hooked up to beeping methodically beside her, his breathing shallow, punctuating the monochrome silence. 

“You can't pull the plug unless I've signed it. Legally, he signed his will off to me and-”

“Wendy. That's not what I'm saying.”

The Englishman said sternly, trying hard to calm her nerves, his Adam's apple bobbing up as he narrowed his eyes at her before sighing, relaxing back into the chair.

“You know i’ll do anything for you and William.”

He continued quietly, his tired eyes passing over the still body in white sheets, Tan skin almost a sickly blue, Platinum blonde locks licking the clinical white pillows. He looked like a doll; unmoving, expression serene, perfectly sculpted features, white stuffing spilling out from his bloody left eye socket

Wendy felt a sob wrack her frame, the bile rising in her throat bitter and sore. Khris gently soothed a hand over her back, eyes wandering to the doctor’s records on the bed frame 

[Concussion, Dislocated left shoulder, broken left forearm, fractured left wrist, internal bleeding of the stomach and liver, Removal of Left eye (requiring surgical facial reconstruction 3), deep gashing and Multiple superficial cuts and bruises.]

“You know he’s tough, Wendy. One of the most stubborn lads I've met in my life. He ain't going nowhere…”

Khris said in a deadpan, chuckling slightly as he saw the faded remnants of a telephone number scrawled across Bill’s bloodied forearm with a permanent marker. 

“He'll be Glad to know his Quarantine is over when he wakes up Anyways, he's got that kid he is still pining onto, yeah..?”

Wendy sat up slowly at this, wiping the tears from her eyes and nodding a little, forcing out a gentle smile as Khris handed her a cup of coffee. She curled her fingers around the cardboard, two new phones in her pocket courtesy of the CIA; one for Bill and herself. The very thought put her at ease, Bill’s hand dangling off the edge of the bed now. He was going to be fine; if anyone could survive a blast like that it would be Bill Cipher. Hell, he fought his way up to the highest rankings of the Mexican Mafia just so he could quit and leave Scott-free

As she took a sip of coffee, she briefly smiled as she too noticed Dipper’s contact still scrawled onto his arm, and she dialed it into the contact log for Bill’s phone, saving it for him. He would thank her later.

“The bastard will wake up in a few days or so, you’ll see…”

Khris assured her again, standing ups and cracking his back as he looked over the lifeless body all cut up and bruised.

“Nothing can kill that Cipher.”

******************

21st October 2017

“Hello…?”

“Dipper? This...this is Wendy.”

The younger teen sat up straight, pausing over his potato salad lunch as Pacifica gave him a quizzical, questioning gaze. Outside the school courtyard, the cool autumn wind blew lazily across the dead landscape, the afternoon sun gently caressing what was left in the land of the living. Winter was slowly creeping over the barren landscape, and Dipper was sure this was the last time they were ever eating outside this year.

“Wendy..?”

“Yes, Bill’s roommate...I need to tell you something Dipper.”

“L-Look...if it's about Bill, I don't really have anything to say to him.”

Dipper stumbled out almost defensively, The blonde girl beside him nodding her head in mild encouragement as Dipper’s fingers curled into a loose fist in resistance. His throat was dry and the very sound of the older man’s name leaving his lips almost sounded foreign to him. 

“Dipper, this is really important. Just...hear me out.”

“Whose number is this?”

“Mine- look. Bill...Bill isn't doing too good right now. I don't want to alarm you but he’s been in an accident.”

“Accident?”

Dipper was surprised at the initial calmness of his voice. His breathing was slowed, like the feeling of waves lapping softly at the shoreline. Then felt his heart leap, his breath catching in his throat, pulse thrumming like a startled bird in a net. His shoulders slumped, voice cracking as he spoke carefully

“What...Kind of accident? is he okay? Can I talk to him-?”

Over the line, Wendy smiled a difficult smile, noticing how Dipper had changed his mind so quickly from not even wanting to converse about Bill to wanting to speak to the man himself, questions bombarding her mercilessly.

“He...he can't. Right now, honey...I'm sorry..he’s in a coma..” 

She breathed out with much difficulty, wincing at the way she heard Dipper’s response come out in just above a shuddering breath

“Oh god…”

Dipper chewed on his lower lip, Pacifica’s hand now on the small of his back, rubbing gentle circles to calm him as his other hand clawed at the wooden table top. She looked scared for him, but being patient as she let Dipper handle the situation on hand upon hearing the circumstances

“....I've checked with your college. You are having your Winter break till mid January, yes? If you would like…”

“I-i...Bill said he couldn't even tell me where he was going. He might get mad.”

Dipper stammered, catching on quickly, feeling fear at the notion of seeing Bill again after all he had done, feeling worry for the man he just couldn't forget, feeling joy at the prospect of seeing his smile again but- also an overwhelming hurt, sadness and heartache, knowing that Bill may not be awake to see him. 

“Hey. Bill loves you, sweetie. He loved you so much so he had to keep this from you...please understand this for now. But it's okay now...we are in New York, the Bronx”

“New York..?”

“…If you trust me enough to come, You'll stay with me and I promise you food and lodging, and an explanation. Just pay for your ticket-- because I'm sure Bill would love to have you here when he wakes up…”

She was close to tears now, sitting on a sad plastic chair in the ward with 3 other patients, holding the back of Bill’s cool hand against her Cheek as she prayed for Dipper to say yes. She knew Bill needed this; or he wasn't going to be able to cope.

Khris was on the phone outside the shared ward, yelling in the halls, accent so apparent Wendy wasn't even sure what he was saying exactly anymore. An angry fist collided with the door, startling the other patients’ Family members in the room.

“Dipper, please.”

She asserted, and the boy on the other end went rigid at the desperation in her tone

“...I-I...what..Why me?…”

“Because you're the only one Bill’s got.”

Wendy said definitively, voice subconsciously rising in anxiousness as she sighed, hearing Dipper fall silent for a few moments 

“I'm not sure if you know...But Bill doesn't have family. And, well...you care for him- right?”

“Yeah-”

“We’ll pay. For the tickets. You just need to be here. For Bill’s sake. I'll talk to your grunkles even, as Long as you say the word.”

“Dipper, what's going on…”

Pacifica whispered gently as tears began sliding down Dipper’s face, the younger man almost unmoving as he clung to the phone tightly.

“I know he loves you, Dipper. I really do. You're all he ever talks about...I know this is crazy but please.”

“O-okay...Okay, I'll come..please make sure Bill is alright...I can't- if...”

“Of course. Don't worry. We will settle everything from here.”

Wendy cooed softly and bit her lower lip, passing a glance over to the man with an empty eye socket and a sunken quarter of his face; skull fractured, his entire orbital bone cracked from impact. A red sharpie was taken to his skin, dotted lines marking out how he was going to be put back together 

“I'll have to tell my Grunkles...can I call you back?”

“Sure honey, anytime”

**************************

It was hard to convince Stan and what not, after all that Bill seemed to have done to Dipper. But after a chat with Wendy and some urging from Mabel, he finally relented, especially since they weren't even going to pay for the tickets. Ford didn't have much of a say in it, and just told Dipper to trust what his gut told him to do- not his heart.

“Shit-”

Dipper cursed as he caught his laptop as it fell off his desk when he tugged out the charger, hitting his toe on the corner of the desk. Sucking in a dead breath, Dipper hastily got his shit together and zipped up the battered briefcase before him; he was a hot mess and Carlos was coming to pick him up in a few minutes. Briefly running his fingers through his hair, he hauled his luggage down the stairs of the warm apartment and out the front door. Mabel was at work and Stan was at the mystery shack. Dipper already said his goodbyes, but some part of him just wished a family member could send him off instead so he wouldn't feel obligated to make out with Carlos in the back seat of his pick up before he got to the airport.

But it all happened faster than expected; lips tongue, breathy pants, sultry glances, a hand on his thigh, willing him into submission.

And a few minutes later ending with Dipper hauling himself out of that vehicle and not looking back.

It wasn't Dipper’s first time heading elsewhere on his own, but the butterflies in his stomach wouldn't settle. He wrote for the next 5 hours, but his head was full of Bill’s happy smiles, his piercing, passionate gaze. The disappointment in Carlos’s dark eyes when he had pulled away briefly, shrugging off the hand on his thigh and storming out to the departure hall

And when Wendy picked him up at the airport, there was a soft, understandable silence in the car as Dipper slide into the leather passenger seat of the black Mercedes, suddenly realising the gravity of the situation. He almost froze really, as the weight of everything gripped him. His Eyes were downcast as he fiddled with the hem of his brown turtleneck, clearing his throat softly.

“How bad is it…?I feel like I need to prepare myself…”

His voice came out as a spark of laughter with no mirth, and Wendy smiled a tight-lipped smile, almost a grimace at the notion that Bill was the first thing he had asked about, fingers curling around the steering wheel slightly as she thought of what to say. She breathed out carefully, as if she was walking on the eggshells that were their first formal encounter.

“He’s lost an eye, needs facial reconstruction- a broken arm, cranial bruising at the most. Frankly I'm just thankful he’s alive...”

The redhead responded, hearing Dipper shift uncomfortably in his seat, visibly disheartened at the extend of Damage, his nails digging hard into his clenched palms on his thighs. Wendy knew that it was better not to say anything to comfort him at the time and instead tried to ask indifferently 

“Would you like to see him now? Or head on home first?”

“If it's not too much, I would like to see him as soon as possible…”

The brunette said more confidently this time, swallowing and turning on the radio that played a soundtrack from Grease, significantly calming him

“Okay. I'll give Khris a call.”

***************************

If there was no more tomorrow:  
How hard would you play?  
To see another tomorrow,  
To feel yesterday?

The hospital smelt like antiseptic and clean wet socks, and Dipper wrapped his arms around himself almost defensively. The familiarity of it kinda irked him, but he kept a close eye on the red dress in front of him, trailing quietly behind the older woman as they entered the visiting wards, working through the little people there on a weekday.

Ward 142A; ICU aftercare

“Okay. Whenever you're ready.”

Wendy motioned quietly to the door, the younger teen almost immediately setting his hand on the knob and twisting it open bravely, fingers secretly crossed in the hopes that Bill was going to be awake. He would be surprised to see him and smiling a tired smile, take Dipper into his arms, planting a small, affectionate kiss to his neck as he whispered his name softly. And Dipper wouldn't cry. He told himself he would slap Bill across the face and tell him he was going to be there for him every step of the way to recovery, and that he loved him and that he was sorry. 

God, he hoped Bill would forgive him.

But Bill was knocked out cold in a bed on the far left of the room, an IV in his right arm and head against soft white pillows, a tall, brooding figure standing at his bedside in a black turtleneck and dark green cargo pants.  
It was the taxi driver from the night a month ago that he had spent and Bill’s house; Dipper swallowed anxiously, feeling Wendy gently nudge him forward by his shoulders almost encouragingly. Bill looked so deathly pale for someone whose skin was kissed so healthily by the sun, his dark lashes fanning over the smooth contours of his face- well, the lashes of one eye at least. There were stitches across his left orbital bone, messy blood that was wiped away to leave behind a warped socket of flesh. They did a fine job of putting him back together, retaining symmetry in most of his facial features except for the fact that there was now an empty socket where his eye should have been, burnt scar tissue circulating the orifice.

“Hey, mornin’…”

She called softly, and the towering man standing before Bill looked up, Cynical, hard green eyes meeting Dipper’s frightened ones as the teenager resisted the urge to go over and bury his face in the crook of Bill’s bare neck to hide from everything. He was afraid, because the Man there seemed to be visibly upset for all the right reasons, a Dipper may as well had assumed it was because of him.

“Wendy.”

He acknowledged slightly with a slight sigh before his gaze softened, giving Dipper a once over and clucking his tongue slightly as a greeting before stepping aside, letting the teenager frantically ease into a plastic chair on Bill’s right before turning to Wendy; 

“A moment with you, please.”

He told her, beckoning her aside as they stepped to the corner of the shared ward, exiting to the balcony with the soft click of the sliding doors. Dipper was left along with the restful body of the man he genuinely loved, staring at his burnt arms, cut up and bruised face and the mask over his nose, the wires hooked up to his body. The teen drew his lower lip between his teeth, wringing his hands as he looked at Bill’s large, scarred Hand dangling off the side of the bed, an IV drip hooked up to the back of his palm, almost tempting Dipper to reach for his touch

The silence was sickening, and Dipper still felt embarrassed, even though the other patients in the room were basically brain dead.

“.....Bill…”

The teen sighed softly, gradually giving in and slipping his hand under that of the older man’s, his usually warm touch now an icy cold that sent a prickly shudder up the back of Dipper’s neck, the Long, bony fingers limp against his grasp, reddened knuckles white.

“I missed you…”

Dipper’s voice wavered with a certain air of uncertainty as he slowly leaned his forehead against Bill’s battered knuckles, the coolness of the man’s hand relieving the heat that built up in his cheeks. Dipper sighed softly in mild content, unconsciously nuzzling his nose against the back of Bill’s fingers

“I'm sorry I...I couldn't love you enough…couldn't love you in time..”

Came the soft proclamation, barely a Whisper for no one to hear except the boy himself as he lingered there for a while longer, closing his eyes and not knowing what else he could do but question everything.

“Who are you, Bill...what are you even doing..?

Dipper asked no one in particular as he drew back to look at The blonde man again, a hand gently drawing patterns on His scarred right palm, tracing the large scar resting there. It was hard to not imagine that he was already dead, aside from the rhythmic beating of the heart monitor.

“The CIA, kid. And to be honest, you shouldn't even be here…”

A dark, husky voice uttered from behind him, the sound of the balcony windows sliding open jolting Dipper from his intimate hold on Bill’s hand. He dropped the appendage and swallowed hard as he saw Khris stalk forward, the tall man adjusting his fingerless gloves as Wendy trailed in quietly behind him. The teen was significantly startled as the Governmental Organization was mentioned, more so than the sudden nature of the voice interrupting his ironic soliloquy. Dipper bowed his head in submission, eyes unintentionally turning towards Bill in fear of Khris’s piercing gaze as Wendy sighed softly

“Khris…”

“To be fair, we have done thorough background checks on you, your location and family, and you're quite literally unable to disrupt anything the CIA has in mind for Bill….therefore we are letting you see him.”

The older man finished, ignoring Wendy as she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder to supposedly soften him. Dipper nodded meekly at the prospect, face turning beet red as he thought about all the things the two people before him must have known about him; including the Rumours.

“CIA…? What..what did Bill do..?”

“Nothing- It's his Job.”

Wendy replied quickly before Khris had a chance to open his mouth, seeing how visibly distressed Dipper was and how he unwittingly dug his fingers into the sheets.

“Dipper look...I..you have to trust me on this. I know, Bill lied. He lied a lot. His job is to lie.”

“Professional Liar then…”

Dipper chuckled weakly, trying to sound indifferent and strong, but the crack at the end of his sentence betrayed him. Thankfully, it had appeared that no one caught on.

“His job, that is.”

“Well…something like that.”

Wendy smiled gently at the attempted punctuation of humour, and Khris laughed in a way that was convincingly genuine.

“But we asked you to come here because...Bill doesn't have anyone else. And we won't be here much longer because..”

Dipper blinked, giving his fullest attention to the The adults before him as Wendy paused in her speech, Khris with his arms folded, impatiently waiting for her to spit it out. 

“Because…?”

The redhead gave a soft sigh as Dipper prompted her with a raised brow, and she finally caved

“We are needed elsewhere. Bill is part of our team and...his injuries sustained are crippling to our purpose. He will need the rest and he will be substituted.” 

She let out in a singular breath, the words clearly difficult for her to say.

“You're firing him.”

Dipper immediately stated, eyes narrowing as he looked between the redhead and the stoic expression of Khris, his fear slowly ebbing away at the notion of standing up for Bill.

“Temporarily.”

The older man interjected, sighing softly and pulling his eyes away from the judgemental glare of the younger teen whom he could tell was beefing up in accusations

“He did some things that were out of protocol, and his behaviour has resulted in the current circumstances. For now we will have to carry out our jobs without him.” 

Dipper felt his blood boil despite not even knowing what Bill was doing for a living or how the CIA was caught up in all of this. He could take a few guesses but that wasn't important.

“But, you care for him..! Don't you? Isn't his job important to you- to him…?”

Dipper almost hissed, tone accusational, this time directing his attention to Wendy who was clearly upset, fiddling with the hem of her leather jacket. She was distraught, eyes glistening as she blinked the tears away, unable to say anything but nod.

“William was right. You ask too many questions kid. Smart.”

Khris chuckled rather cynically, almost in disbelief as he stepped forward, handing a folder over to the younger man, a strip of masking tape plastered over the surface. 

[William B. Cipher] 

Dipper took it with a questioning glare, having to hold it together with two hands as it was stuffed with loose documents and plastic files, almost 2 inches thick. The bait of knowledge was held over his head once again, his curiosity’s hunger leaving him unable to resist.

“This is everything you will need to know about ‘Bill’. But in exchange...you keep quiet and, well. Watch him for us. Till he is okay.” 

Khris continued, then handing Dipper a document with the CIA Logo stamped on it in red, stating the terms and conditions of what Khris had just said in more convoluted syntax, just waiting for his signature.

“Everything from the bills to the monetary allowance will be covered by the CIA through Bill’s extensive insurance and his paid recovery leave. So waddaya say?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!!! This chapter is a little Long cause I really had been looking at it for a while and fixing my storyline I'm so sorry for the wait- I REALLY APPRCIATE ALL THE SUPPORT IVE BEEN GETTING aaAAAAAA ❤️❤️❤️❤️ A big thank you to those who have stayed all the way and been leaving these encouraging comments I really appreciate y'all and I promise- I WILL SEE THIS STORY THROUGH
> 
> Sorry if ya feel the process in which Dipper finds stuff out is too quick :'< I just didn't really know or feel the need to make those scenes longer???
> 
> SiGhs oh deAr I feel bad for Carlos even thou he is just an Oc. I took inspiration from Marco in SVTFOE in case anyone gives a shit hHAHAHAHAH 
> 
> Also HhHhhhhHnn expect some character development shit may get a bit dicey soon- Bill isn't exactly who he says he is :> will Dipper be able to register this and accept him...!!!!!?? 
> 
> The slow burnnnnn :> feels bad Man 
> 
> Also I've been feeling a loss in character development in dipper???? :< idk I fee like his personality isn't that apparent anymore... do let me know if you feel the same!!! 
> 
> I promise longer chapters to come uudghjbvb


	16. Chapter 16

There was a deal made. A promise sealed, and Dipper was left alone with an emergency call number, a map of the Bronx, keys to Bill’s apartment and an envelope stuffed with 10 dollar bills. He swallowed, now alone in the hospital room with Bill, the heater buzzing warmly around them.

The yellow file sat heavy on the foot of the hospital bed, brimming with curiosities, splitting at the seams with knowledge, aching to be opened. It nagged at him to pick it up; a juicy read, a new perspective of the almost ‘Too perfect” man he knew as Bill Cipher.

He stayed for a while longer before gathering the thick folder off the sheets, noting the way the papers in it rustled every time he shifted around. Giving a final glance towards the lifeless body before him, his throat tightened with what could only have been sorrow, confusion and betrayal before he sat up and left without saying a word more, his number left as the sole contact for Updates on Bill’s status.

He was 19 years old. They knew he could take care of himself. And besides, the new apartment he was to stay at was only a 3 minute walk from the emergency room. There was no one else there and no one else knew BIll Cipher; he had nothing left here but time.

***********************

Why regret something you've once wanted?  
Designers of our own catastrophe  
Everything is blurry  
But everything feels so real

“Yeah. I'm fine...Bill’s not up yet though. It's been 2 weeks since the incident…”

Dipper sighed, voice trailing off as he held his cellphone to the crook of his neck, busying himself in the kitchen with a recipe for mushroom soup. He blew nonchalantly at the smoke swirling out of the hot cream in the pan, talking to Mabel over the phone 3 days into his lone stay in New York.

“Grunkle Ford says severe comas usually last 2-4 weeks...so he should be up before then”

Mabel hummed softly in reassurance over the line, Dipper cursing softly as he dropped his wooden spoon too deep into the cream.

“Okay...well that's good to hear I Guess..”

He mumbled half heartedly as he tried to fish out the utensil with a pair of takeout chopsticks, hearing Mabel sigh over the phone

“You don't sound very pleasantly surprised by that.”

The younger twin snorted in response to her quip over the phone, managing a slippery grip on the ladle as he fished it out of the viscous liquid and into the sink temporarily. 

“Well yeah- I mean. I don't really know him very personally… I could deal with him dying.”

“Could you now…? Then why are you there Dipper?”

Silence, Dipper feeling his breath catch in his throat, choking him. The uneasiness in his stomach worked its way up his throat like coagulated bile. The question was difficult, made him question all the emotions he had ever had. It made him sick.

“I-I don't know...I care about him. He doesn't have anyone else.”

“So it's like a pity party then, huh?”

Dipper almost jumped, Grunkle Stan’s gruff voice replacing Mabel’s as the phone was probably ripped from her grasp.

“Dipper!”

“Yes, Grunkle Stan….”

“Why are you even still there- it's dangerous in the Bronx and now they tell us you are by yourself?! I swear these Government swine-”

“It's okay, I'm fine...besides, I'm sure Bill will be awake soon…”

“That bastard better take good care of you when he gets out. I can't believe the nerve..”

The older man growled over the phone, and Dipper felt his resolution almost falter. He wanted to see this through, but now the odds were adding up against his own rationality and he honestly just wanted to go home and bury himself in his own thick, Downy quilts and the soft mattress of his bed.

But The pastel yellow folder, pregnant with Bill’s personal documents lay on the countertop delicately beside the refrigerator, tempting him deceitfully. 

“It will be okay, Stan. I promise; I want to be here.”

*********

The rest of the night could have been spent questioning things. Things such as why Dipper even gave a shit about Bill after all that he had done, or why he decided that getting this private information about Bill was worth staying in New York for the rest of his winter break.

Curiosity did kill the cat.

Anger. Hurt. Guilt. Betrayal.

Bill’s silver Watch lay in a bundle of white silk, repaired and now good as New. Dipper noted the way it ticked softly when he brought it close to his ear. The minuscule gears clicking, turning in sync;

Tick, tick, tick.

Why he had yet to even touch the folder on the kitchen counter, was unknown.

So instead, life went on rather uneventfully. Dipper sipped on a bowl of his hard laboured meal along with some toast as he flicked through random channels on the television, settling for some desperate housewives. He took a quick shower in the tiny bathroom, cursing at himself for not bringing his own shampoo and settling for some of Bill’s; it wasn't like the prick would mind.

Redwood and palichut 

So that's what that smell was, the scent that he knew almost far too well; the forest. Damp, musky and almost heady. Invading his senses when Bill nipped at his jugular, whispered, bated, breathless nothings into his ear.

The folder was watching him, it's presence invading an almost intangible form of Dipper’s privacy.

Nevertheless, He headed to the bedroom at 8 and sorted his clothes in the semi empty cupboard, already half filled with an assortment of Bill’s yellow tinted clothing. He couldn't help but question the man’s strange aesthetic, and caught himself smiling as he recalled the beige sweater Bill had given him. But then the guilt sank in quick, like wet cement in his stomach; thick and heavy, and Dipper quickly brushed away the thoughts about everything before he thought about them too hard.

It was like sweeping a broken vase under a rug, but He was honestly too tired to deal with any emotional conflict right Now.

Brown bedsheets was already made in their single bedroom apartment with a Queen sized bed, and Dipper snuggled up comfortably. The duvet already smelt like Bill, musky and soft, Dipper swallowing at the now definitive prospect that this was a one room flat; but then again, rent was so expensive at the upper side of the Bronx so near to amenities. He was already getting the deluxe life with the New York experience, and he really shouldn't whine. 

He was tempted to spend time exploring the big city, visit their museums and attend poetry night or stand up comedy sessions, but he had signed the contract saying he wouldn't go anywhere without Bill. 

The terms; 

No going anywhere but the hospital, the house and the nearby store.  
No speaking of Bill’s involvement in the CIA to anyone  
No telling Bill where Khris or Wendy was until they contacted him directly

So he was stuck in a semi-luxury apartment with a nice big glass window overlooking the burnt out, almost dystopian city. In the Early Winter, the cool air birthed a thin layer of mist across the moody city, the fog settling comfortably over neon signs and grey skyscrapers, the cars beneath his feet like ants with blinking red eyes. The cigarettes he smoked felt warmer than ever, his nicotine breaths almost like warm steam against the cool palette of the night sky, burying his countenance in a thick veil of smoke and carcinogens

It was beautiful, in its own complicated and disturbing way; the loneliness of a one room apartment for a boy that had been living with family his entire life. 

*******************

Dipper devised a schedule to get used to. To get himself motivated; or at least that was what he told himself.

8am: Get up make coffee get ready

9.30am: Hospital allows visitors. Visit Bill. Stay till lunch.

12.30pm: eat at the cafeteria 

1.30pm: Head back to Bill

5pm: Head home, shower, make dinner 

10pm: sleep

It seemed uneventful and awfully boring, but thankfully, the 5th night into his stay was when the phone call arrived. 

7am.

Dipper had scrambled out of bed, gushing towards his phone that was charging next to the cupboard 

“Hello-?”

“Mr Pines? This is XXX hospital calling.”

“Cipher- yes? How is he?”

Dipper interjected sleepily, sitting up and cracking his back, sore from sleeping in the humanly wrong position as his heart immediately started thumping hard in its cavity, his legs already moving on their own.

“His condition is stabilising and it appears he is regaining some of his senses, we are expecting him to come back to us in a few minutes. He is still in a rather vulnerable state-”

“I see. I'll come immediately.”

Dipper had hung up, thrown his phone onto the bed and scrambled into fresh clothing for the day; black skinny jeans and a brown turtleneck, leaving his hair an unruly mess as he shoved his feet into his boots and immediately started out the door.  
As he threw himself out the front lobby entrance, his teeth chattered with the winter cold, the fact that he wasn't ready with a coat hitting him in the face. But that wasn't really important right then, even as the cold nipped at his skin

The steps to the ward were quick and troubled, the empty hospital hallway filled with his breaths and echoing in space. There were Doctors surrounding the bed, shining a torch into his singular blue eye, a nurse taking his blood pressure and meddling with the needles in his arms. Dipper stood to the side, watching quietly, panting softly, heart in throat. The chills he got in the warm ward seemed to make the winter air outside pale in comparison as apprehension jerked him awake.

The was a soft rasping emerging from the bed as the Doctors finally stepped away, and Dipper inched forward timidly, thin fingers curling around the bars of the hospital bed, looking over at the Spanish man resting on the pillows, muscles tensing with vigor in his neck and arms as a breath was released, fogging up the oxygen mask temporarily as his right eye fluttered opened blearily. 

“Uughhh…”

Came a Low groan of agony, and Dipper instantly felt his stomach do a flip, grip tightening on the metal bar frame of the bed. He drew his lower lip between his teeth, watching as the Doctors held down Bill’s arms, giving him a quick shot into his upper right arm, causing The Latino to swallow hard and let out yet another guttural sound. 

“Mr Cipher, you are in a hospital..”

A nurse calmly spoke as the older man appeared to visibly sober up, his head shifting blindly from left to right, his neck craning.

“I can't see- I can't see..”

His voice came out soft and pained as he frantically tried to sit up, his heart rate spiking significantly, causing Dipper’s heart to sink like a dead weight into his stomach as the monitor picked up the pace.

Beep beep beep

“Mr Cipher- we are going to need you to calm down.”

“Fuck- Fuck Fuck Fuck…”

Bill groaned, his lean frame quaking slightly as he struggled against the hold on his arms and chest, pain coursing through his body. He looked like he was gasping for dear life, his singular pupil diluting in absolute terror. 

“Bill-”

Dipper called out softly, trying to hold back the fear in his voice as he pushed past a nurse and firmly placed a chilled hand onto Bill’s clenched knuckles, causing him to freeze momentarily.

“Bill, it's me- Dipper..”

“....Dipper-”

Bill’s chest was heaving as his face turned towards the sound of the voice, the singular blue eye filmed over with a pale mucus. 

“The lack of vision in The Eye is due to after effects of the concussion and understandable stress levels. It will return in a few hours. The pain should subside with the morphine shot we just gave him, but he shouldn't move around.” 

The male doctor beside them said sternly, the clipboard in his hands thick with a good inch of colourful papers recording the diagnostic results of each of Bill’s medical requirements. The list on the side of his bed did appear to be excessive.

It was scary, how it appeared that Bill's case was just one in a million to them, and they weren't even phased. Dipper found himself silent in deep thought, mind swarming with thoughts like bees, trying to draw a conclusion to his emotions somewhere between being frightened or relieved. He tried to mouth the words, but nothing seemed to come to mind, so he just looked at the green veins beneath the delicate skin of Bill’s wrist, tracing the faint scars and fading bruises

Bill had calmed down significantly as Dipper ran his fingers across his right wrist, wincing as he turned to look in the general direction of the professional in the white lab coat.

“C-concussion…?”

Bill asked, voice half slurring as he shifted slightly, Dipper’s hand now holding him down by his shoulder as he tried to reach blindly for purchase on the Doctor’s arm, hearing the paper shuffle before him.

“I-I'll fill him in…”

Dipper told the doctor softly, looking to him with a willful smile. The Doctor, Mr Jeckle, nodded and showed the Nurses off, telling Dipper to press the emergency button if anything happened and not touch anything else at all.

There was the sound of shuffling shoes, heart monitors beeping, almost in sync, Bill’s ironically being more rhythmic; like a guitar solo amidst the soft thrumming of the bass.

“Dipper...what's…”

He had started out, voice clearly panicked

“It's okay, Bill-…you had an accident..you were in a coma for a while.”

Dipper stumbled out as he reached for a cup that Bill had accidentally knocked over with his elbow, saving the glass from consequently crashing into the floor.

“Where am i…? Where is Wendy-?”

“New York- XXX hospital...she-she and Khris are- I don't know. But-”

The teenager swallowed, looking to Bill as he swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing up tentatively in his throat.

“How do you know his name.”

“....Khris?”

“....Fuck. I need to call them.”

“Bill..”

“Shut up.”

There was a sharp hiss in Bill’s usual calm tone that made Dipper stiffen visibly, his body going rigid as he now looked awkwardly at the man before him, breathing heavy, one eye missing, the other glazed over. Licking his lips in an almost painful apprehension, Dipper took a small step back at the harshness of the older man’s words

This definitely wasn't how he expected their reunion to be. 

A reunion with a man who never did anything but lie

“....Goddammit…”

Bill finally huffed out as he gave another soft groan of pain, the stitches in the side of his face pulling at his flesh in opposite directions beneath the scaring. He tried shifting his left arm to sit up. Nope; that wasn't working. He felt a cast, an IV needle, bandages, rough, peeling skin.

“....Where are they, Dipper. Tell me.”

The older male’s husky voice fell an all too familiar octave, but Dipper swallowed in fear instead of the usual submissiveness, watching as the empty eye socket watched him. Black, hollow. 

Bill’s gaze that was supposedly directed at him had instead gone off into the space behind The teen’s shoulder as he spoke, and it was beyond unnerving.

“.........”

Silence; he couldn't even dare to breathe.

Sucking in in a shuddering breath, inching away from the bedside quietly to sit in the chair next to Bill, Dippers finger curled protectively around the glass cup. He couldn't bail no matter what. The contract, the contract.

“Sugar pine.”

The tone was now more commanding, but at the same time more desperate- and the teen kept silent, watching as the blonde male cursed softly and shifted to feel around the bed he was strapped to. His singular functional right hand flew to the metal railings of his bed, Long, bony fingertips brushing past it's length, grappling blindly in the midst of his perpetual darkness. He touched the right side of the bed where Dipper was seated, where he was standing, where the cup had fallen, where the sheets were rumpled before the room went silent, atmosphere now heavy with remorse.

Dipper felt tears in his eyes; Bill looked so feckless. Distraught. He seemed to know exactly what was going on.

“Dipper. Please. You have to listen to me. Where are they.”

“Bill- I can't tell you”

Dipper swallowed, a hand now timidly resting against the back of Bill’s hand, careful to avoid the IV plunged beneath his skin. There was a look of familiarity in Bill’s Hazy eye, as if he already knew about what was happening all too well. He silenced himself, taking comfort in the smaller, warm hand placed atop his own. 

“Besides. It's not like I know anyways. They didn't tell me.”

Dipper’s tone was sharper now, bile rising in his throat like vitriol at the way Bill had addressed him. He knew Bill must have just been grumpy and obviously upset, but the childish side of him told him to stay bullish

“Well. Whatever. I'm going to get breakfast. I'll see you later.”

The teen sighed, standing up to leave. He didn't miss the way Bill stiffened significantly, shoulders slumped with guilt. He felt bad to say the least. Leaving someone he cared for significantly alone in a quiet room with no other company besides other brain dead patients while they were medically blinded. 

But Bill didn't reach out to stop him.

*********************

Children of a bad revolution  
Where  
White roses still have  
Black shadows  
And tonight  
A party  
Where  
The foxes hunt the hounds

The coffee was black. Bitter. The way Dipper liked it. And the pastry the woman at the cafeteria had insisted on giving him looked sickening; oozing with a pus like custard, a warm white glaze coating the flaky surface and stuffed with steaming hot Apple filling.

She had said Dipper looked like he was starving, and how food was still important while we were feeling down. She must had seen the look on his face when he'd ordered the coffee, how Bill was crushing him with some form of survivor’s guilt.

As Dipper contemplated how appearance was only a fraction of reality, he noted how the piping hot pastry came straight from the oven, a small bubble popping in the flowing custard that hadn't had time to set up.

Okay, it did look pretty good. 

But Dipper wasn't even hungry. He didn't even really want to get breakfast. He just wanted to get out that room, and get away from Bill until he had calmed down. According to the Doctor, Bill could be discharged as soon as a week after he awoke as Long as he passed the physical fitness tests.

But for some reason Dipper didn't know if that was a good thing. He knew that this wasn't going to get any better if Bill stayed grumpy. And that he shouldn't be expecting any hugs and kisses anytime soon.

As Dipper brought the warm, white Mug to his lips and took a sip of the burning coffee, he let the dark liquid seep down his throat, searing his innards. He checked his blog, responded to some comments before shutting off the notifications once more. He didn't feel like writing, so he spent the next few hours just sitting there. Watching the people. Watching the scene. Watching the world with a cigarette in his hand as he decided stepped out for fresh air. 

Nicotine burned him from the inside out, burning Bill’s name into his throat. 

We are all addicted to something

Something that could potentially get us killed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo peeps I've been feeling a little generous this week so have a double update!!! :>
> 
> I really wanted a certain segment to show Dipper's confusion over his feelings for Bill. Like between the intellectual infatuation and him actually wanting to be with him as a partner. As of now we see that there isn't anything established yet, and Bill appears to be a more agresssive character; something Dipper didn't expect.
> 
> OooooooHhH BilL is AwAke >:3 but it's not going to be all fun and games :< there is still talks that need to happen and shit that needs to go down before we get a happily ever after :> I'm not ready to end this fic just yet! 
> 
> Do let me know if y'all like where this is going! I'll be honest, constructive and encouraging or critical Comments are what really give me motivation to keep on writing more and faster as well :'D so thanks so much for the continued support!


	17. Chapter 17

11.12am

“...Dipper-”

A clinical silence was broken when Dipper stepped back into the room a full 4 hours later, a warm, morning glow now shrouding the shared hospital room. The blinds were drawn, and Bill appeared to already have a book in his lap and a cup of coffee on the foldable table piece in front of him. His light blonde hair was a tousled, a unwashed and greasy mess, slicked back carelessly, catching the glimmer of the morning sun. 

As the boy looked up to catch Bill’s gaze, he noticed that his right eye had cleared, and the sharp piercing blue of Bill’s pupil had returned. He looked unkept, but still sexy as ever. Dipper just took a moment to look BIll over, from the way the hospital gown hung Low on his chest, exposing his clavicles and the grooves of his tanned, slightly muscular neck, to the temporary white cloth eyepatch now strung across his face.

He hoped to God Bill at least felt a little less touchy  
The air around them was already awkward enough.

“That was a pretty long breakfast you had there, little tree.”

Bill hummed when he saw no return in acknowledgement from Dipper, now folding the page to the book in his lap before closing it. 

Dipper swallowed, unsure of how to reply. He sunk into the plastic chair beside Bill’s bed, eyes downcast, shoulders hunched rather awkwardly as he trained his eyes on the paper bag he had brought up from the cafeteria containing the pastry he had received as charity that morning. 

He really didn't want to talk to Bill. Coming back into the room was already difficult enough.

He sucked in a deep breath, hearing Bill shift slightly on the bed and and heave a short sigh before speaking

“I...I apologise for my behaviour this morning, Dipper...I really shouldn't have taken it out on you..”

Dipper chewed on the insides of his mouth, still unable to look Bill in The Eye, still questioning the otherwise genuine apology. He flinched slightly as he suddenly felt the softest of touches on his forearm, Bill’s scarred, IV needled hand now tracing its fingers across his woollen sweater. 

“Little tree…”

“It's fine. I'd be pretty upset too, if only I had any idea what was going on…”

His laugh was dry, the tears threatening to spill from his eyes despite himself telling himself to be strong. 

“You sayin’....ya don’t know what's going on?”

Bill chuckled in response, but stopped immediately upon seeing the glistening in Dipper’s brown eyes. He frowned slightly, pausing to relax his hold on Dipper’s arm as the younger boy shrugged it off, eyes still laying on the brown bag in his hands. Bill swallowed, groaning slightly as a nagging, sharp pain pierced him in the side, but he brushed it off.

“Well...they made you sign a contract didn't they?”

Bill started out softly, clearing his throat as he readjusted himself on the bed after letting go of Dipper. Something about him appeared off, almost like he was too formal, too awkward in his own skin. 

“Yeah- I mean...I get that. My job is to take care of you while they are gone.”

Dipper swallowed as he spoke, noticing the way Bill seemed to almost flinch at the use of the word ‘job’, but the older man nonetheless nodded and kept talking. God, his head hurt.

“Well then, what are you uncertain about, or what feels like it needs the clarification?”

The older man had almost spat, but held back the venom in his words, knowing Dipper really didn't ask for any of this, and he shouldn't be taking it out on the very person who was here to watch over his recovery, even though he was irritable and in pain

Dipper had paused to think, this time straightening his posture before turning to look to the older agent. He set his lips in a hard line, placing a hand on the side of Bill’s hospital bed as he steadied his voice.

“You. Who are you.”

“And what makes you think I have to answer that question, little tree?”

Bill tried, clearly bitter as he let out a small, humourless breath of a laugh, trying hard to do what felt like fixing his ribs , Turning to meet Dipper’s dagger like gaze with his own. And Dipper swore he trembled, the intensity of the look from Bill’s singular, piercing eye seemed to have made his own intimidation attempt pale in comparison. 

“.....So you aren't going to tell me? That you aren't Bill Cipher.”

“Ahh. The Pity tactic. I'm Glad you realised intimidation isn't really in your ball park.”

Bill half-mocked, this time expression clearly lighting up with delight at the way Dipper chewed on his lower lip, eyes dropping to the sheets instead. 

“Well, I am Cipher. William **Basilio Cipher. But I prefer Bill. It's more convenient than William and more inclusive than Will…”

(**Latin/Spanish for ‘noble’)

The Latino seemed to pause for dramatic effect before grinning to himself, looking down at his broken left arm. 

“I'm proud of my Spanish roots.”

Dipper nodded slowly, looking over the man sitting on the bed, now staring out the hospital balcony window with his single good eye. He noted a paperback copy of ‘The Pedagogy of the Oppressed’ laying in his lap, and Dipper willed himself not to recall what exactly made him fall for this gorgeous man who was just so damn attractive in more ways than just looks.

“....you know. I'd never thought this would be how I would be retrenched. A car bomb. Pppft…”

Bill made a sound of fake laughter before turning to Dipper with his signature honeysuckle smile, the sadness well laced behind his cynical exterior. 

They aren't firing you

Is what Dipper wanted to say, but he honestly didn't even know if he would believe himself if he had said that. 

“It will be okay. You just need to get better.”

Dipper said quietly, not daring to meet Bill’s eye as he silently stood up to stand beside the hospital bed and sat down on the very edge near Bill, back turned to him, careful not to snag any medical wires along the way. He carefully placed a hand on Bill’s forearm, gaping momentarily as he looked for the words to finish his sentence before Bill found a Quip to get back at him. 

“I'm just Glad you are alive. I'm happy I got to see you again.”

The teen finished, softly heaving a sigh as he only heard a deathly silence come from the person behind him, one that for some reason gave him the motivation to press on, asking the things that made even him uncomfortable

“Whatever we had back at The Falls, whether it was real or not, or just one of the undercover games you had to play. It's fine, okay. I signed the damn contract to take care of you so I'm sorry if I upset you, but i'll be here until you get better.”

Dipper said in a huff, gripping the hem of his sweater slightly, his back still turned to the older man who had fallen strangely silent at the proclamation.

“Whatever we are, was, will be- I don't care. I just have my side of the deal to-”

“Dipper.”

Bill had suddenly interrupted him, as if disinterested in whatever else the boy had to say. 

Rude

Bill gently snaked an arm around Dipper’s waist from behind, locking him in place as he let out a slight grunt at the pressure placed on his stitched abdomen. Nonetheless, he shifted closer to the teen, feeling the younger man stiffen slightly in his hold as he affectionately nosed the back of Dipper’s pale neck, sighing in content as he smelt his own Shampoo waft gently from Dipper’s curly locks. 

“It was real, Mi Amore…I'm sorry you ever felt that way.”

He uttered before hesitantly pressing a lingering kiss to the back of Dipper’s ear, feeling the teen quiver. Dipper laughed, softly, not letting Bill take pleasure in seeing the tears form in the corner of his eyes as he willed himself to be strong. 

“And I still feel the same way, about you. I'm really happy you came all the way across the states to see me here. I never really got around to telling you that, huh.”

Bill hummed thoughtfully, resting his lips on Dipper’s nape as he continued, seeing how the younger man wasn't stopping him or resisting. He felt Dipper Rest his hands comfortably on his arm, leaning back into his touch in what must have been relief as Bill planted soft, feather-like kisses across the pale column of Dipper’s neck

“Mm. I wish I could tell you everything. But for now just know that I don't exactly give rim jobs to just anyone, Pine tree…”

Bill purred, some form of comfort washing over him as he felt Dipper nod slightly in acknowledgement at his words, ears going red at the lewd commentary. As he felt Dipper slowly ease into the hug, Bill nuzzled his face against Dipper’s back, now more grateful of his presence. But Just as his lips parted to speak again, he paused, catching sight of something that made him tense up slightly, a heat prickling in his chest

A small, faded series of purplish, red Marks just below the collar of the teen’s sweater, just along his spine, littering his otherwise pale, unmarked skin. Hickies, faded with time. Probably about a week or so old.

“Dipper...are you seeing anybody right now?” 

Bill murmured, gently nosing at the places where the marks were, dragging down the collar of Dipper’s shirt with his teeth in a way that was almost feral. Possessive and daring, Bill knew he wasn't willing to share; unless Dipper wasn't interested. The teen shuddered, pausing before shaking his head, biting his lower lip; It was time he came clean either way.

“On and off. Nothing serious.”

He felt the guilt eat at him with the way Bill nodded and fell silent, smoothing his hand that was around Dipper across the teen’s stomach and chest in a manner that Dipper decisively chose to see as possessive. Oh god, he wanted Bill. Wanted nothing more but to hear his hearty laughter and listen to him go on and on about nothing; wake up in the same bed with him, cook with him, live with him.

“...would you be interested then. In something serious.”

Bill countered, smiling against Dipper’s skin before releasing his hold on Dipper’s waist so the boy could turn back around to face him. The teen shuffled stiffly so he was facing Bill, the confusion and partial disbelief on his face unmistakable as his mouth gaped into a small laugh

“E-excuse me?”

“With me. Dating. I know, I only have one eye and I may not look as twice as good as I once did but…”

“Shut up...”

Dipper laughed in a way that made it seem rather difficult, but looked to Bill with a smile that the older man deemed inconclusive. 

“That's...not it. I don't care about your looks.”

He shook his head, almost even dismissive to the idea of Bill ever being nothing short of beautiful

“I know, you are in pain, and that the medication makes everything numb and confusing- but you can't keep playing me like this, Bill. I have feelings too.”

“Sugar Pine-”

“Don't call me that.”

“Dipper. I'm serious.”

Bill insisted, patting the empty side of the bed next to him with a warm smile, one that made Dipper loosen up the walls he had built up around himself and maybe decide this definitely WOULDN'T be a bad idea.

But as he scooted close so he could snuggle against Bill’s side, lying next to him on the spacious hospital bed, Dipper felt his initial nerves slowly ebb away from the edges of his mind. Everything felt warm yet foreign. Like a sunrise in the forest; the darkness ebbing away, a warmth replacing the dense ebony of what was anger and betrayal, something akin to sadness and misunderstanding. But The older man chuckled and put his arm around Dipper’s waist, content with the way the smaller boy’s body curled up against his own independently, their shoulders jostling slightly before they settled.

“I'm really sorry sweetie. I just…I promise I'll cook you something nice when I get back on my feet…”

“…it's okay. It's okay. Just...shush.”

Dipper sighed softly, leaning over to Bill and pressing a hesitant, small kiss to the corner of the older man’s mouth. He paused, letting the feeling of Bill’s slight stubble linger on his lips, before the older man tilted his head sideways to press his lips back against Dipper’s. Brief, subtle, the taste of milked, watered down coffee and cigarettes.

“You just smoked-?”

Dipper smirked as he pulled back briefly from the gentle kiss, almost in disbelief at the notion that a CIA agent had smoked a fag in the hospital where it was pretty much illegal. He almost asked where the smell went to, before noticing a bottle of antiseptic air freshener sitting on the bedside table.

“Yeah. I was pretty riled up. Almost set the smoke detectors off...You mind?”

“No. I had a few before I came back up here…”

The teen smiled, feeling Bill’s soft, rumbling laughter in his chest as their lips met once more, a series of short, sweet nothings. Dipper slid his hands around to Cup Bill’s strong jawline, their kisses turning slow and passionate as their lips slid against one another, slotting together in a motion that could only be described as fluid. The younger man tilted his head slightly as Bill leaned up to kiss him deeper, feeling the Latino suck softly on his lower lip, slipping his tongue past Dipper’s teeth and drawing out a slight moan from his throat.

“Fuck…”

Dipper hissed softly as he pulled away first, face beet red at the lewd sound he had made. Bill had rested his good hand on Dipper’s waist, his thumb patiently tracing circles on the teen’s hipbone just above the hem of his jeans; he looked almost smug, expression gleeful, but still predatory.

“That felt really bad. Like in a I might have done something criminal without knowing it kind of bad. Don't laugh.”

The brunette deadpanned, unamused with the way Bill’s stupid smile only grew bigger, his singular eye sparkling with a mischievous glimmer.

“Oh honey, I'm sure you've done worse…”

Bill hummed, his right arm sliding up to the back of Dipper’s neck, fingers gently prodding at every single one of the faded love bites, causing to the teen to blush slightly as he caught on to what Bill was referring to.

“I told you. I was seeing someone. Casually. It's irrelevant now.”

Dipper simply stated, a little more defensively than he had intended to. Bill knew better than to press on, simply nodding as he lifted his hand to stroke back Dipper’s messy curls from his forehead.

“I'm Glad you told me...I know it must have been lonely. I should have called you more when I had the chance…”

Bill lamented thoughtfully, noticing how Dipper’s Long lashes fanned out over his eyes, his pale lips slightly reddened from kissing as he lowered his head in what could have been shame. The older man responded by tilting his Chin up, giving him a small smile.

“I don't know how to respond to that since I don't even know what happened when you were gone.”

Dipper frowned, leaning back away from the older man as he crossed his arms, getting off the bed and sitting down on the plastic chair yet again, much to the older man’s subtle disappointment. He opened his mouth to respond, heart pounding softly in his ears at the notion that this could all go south.

“So you want me to tell you…? About why I was gone then?”

Bill’s smile faltered slightly as he saw Dipper nod in response, but he could only shake his head and heave a small sigh. He licked his lips tentatively, pausing to organise his thoughts, head still much of a garbled mess.

“We- the team. Khris, Wendy and I, that is, made a mistake estimating how big the cartel operation roots were back in Gravity Falls. We ended up having our cover blown before Long before we tied up any loose ends. So we had to go.”

He seemed sad, more disappointed than anything as he slid back against the pillows, fiddling with the pages of the book between his fingers

“And I...I was supposed to go into quarantine. But I sorta broke protocol. I was too careless…didn't think twice before acting…”

Bill sighed, feeling Dipper shift slightly so he could hold on to Bill’s hand that was nervously ripping the corner page of the book. The paper made a soft tearing noise, cutting through the silence that was the hospital room, heart monitors harmoniously beeping as a backtrack to their conversation. His eyes were gentle and soft as he looked towards to Bill, kind, but not pitiful; something Bill rather appreciated.

“Everyone makes mistakes- I know...but I just…”

“....Was it because of our phone calls...that they, tracked you down?”

Dipper asked carefully, watching as Bill almost shot upright, wincing slightly at the pain in his abdomen. Dipper’s muddy brown eyes were bright, intelligent; because he could already guess the answer. The teen leaned forward to help him up immediately, only to be refused by The older man who just gave a Low groan and grimace.

“Maybe. To be honest we’ll never know for sure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh. NiCe ambiguous endings :>  
> This chapter is a little meaty hohoho I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> AAHAHHAHAHAH fml I spent so Long writing this chapter. I ran it through my beta Again and again to make sure it was just right and the emotions weren't too simplified or complicated- I hope it turned out okay and can get the response intended
> 
> Fml they are together(?) i mean I Guess it's finally official but Dipper doesn't seem to exactly be enthralled by it- Bill on the other hand seems to be a little bit possessive and insecure- which I assure you will have its consequences :>
> 
> /winks with both eyes/
> 
> Nothing Much else to say here tbh- I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter!!! Im so grateful for the previous commments letting me know how the pacing of the story was going :'> I really appreciate your feedback :D 
> 
> See y'all soooonnnn


	18. Chapter 18

You were the kind of cold that isn't measured by temperature.  
A messiah with a complex.  
You taught me why hurricanes were named after people.  
Poor are those that have eyes but cannot see;  
That what doesn't kill you will likely try again.

3 November, 10am

“Grunge is dead. Black is so boring-”

Bill hummed, looking towards the dull coloured dashboard of Dipper’s blog which the teen was busy updating. Dipper paused, a small grin playing at the corner of his lips as he looked up to meet the challenging blue eye of his counterpart.

“Black is poetic. It's elegant and classy. How do you imagine a poet? In a bright yellow jacket?”

“Well, you look good in yellow.”

Bill smiled, giving Dipper’s thigh a gentle squeeze as they sat together outside the hospital homeroom at a table on the balcony. Dipper flushed slightly, shucking back the sleeves of Bill’s pastel yellow sweater he had borrowed as he took a drag of his cigarette, the cold, early winter air billowing around them.

“Well, I'm not a poet; I'm a writer.”

Dipper explained, mumbling between his pursed, chaffed lips that held the smoking joint as he cracked his knuckles, thin wrists poking out from oversized sleeves.

“Mmm. Noted.”

The teen was editing his blog on the iron wrought table, the grey, minimalistic dashboard a soft contrast to dead surroundings around them. Around them, the road was grey and the buildings were noisy, shuttle buses and cars flooding up midweek traffic. The few trees in the front of the ICU wards were bare, naked to the cold, thin branches whipping through the Breeze, sleeping till the spring. Bill had followed suit, taking a draw from his own cigarette with his casted hand, keeping the other on Dipper’s leg. It was nice. A soft, comforting warmth beside him as Dipper continued to type away at his work. Bill was dressed in a hospital gown with a soft, white bathrobe, working on The Pedagogy novel beside him.

A soft silence; smoke in the air and blood in the water.

********************

5 November, 8am

“Hey, close your eyes.”

“Haha, funny.…”

Bill grinned, closing his singular right eye as Dipper ran a shampooed hand through his thick, greasy locks; it had been at least a month since he washed it.

“You know that's not what I meant.”

Dipper sighed softly, gently scraping the man’s scalp for him, massaging and lathering the soap into his hair. He gently soothed a wet hand over Bill’s forehead, the older Man’s head tipped back as he sat in a chair in the shower room. Butt naked. Except for plastics crinkled around his casted arm. But Dipper had learnt Bill was a man without basic human decency.

The teen heard Bill hum softly, still smiling warmly with his singular eye shut. And Dipper couldn't help but stare for a while; at the hole in Bill’s face where his left eye used to be. Warbled flesh, now dried and smooth with scars from where the stitches were removed. There was still structure, a socket, but not must else. Creepy.

“Ya think I should get a glass eye? I can be one of those creepy Chameleon dudes with different coloured ones that look in 2 different directions.”

Bill said, expression thoughtful as Dipper jolted, wondering if the older man could really read his thoughts sometimes, or if he just knew Dipper was staring. He paused to just think, testing the bath water temperature before running his hand through Bill’s now soapy hair, rinsing it off with the shower head and feeling the warm water seep through his fingers to wash the silt away.

He admired Bill for whatever he was, whatever he had left; and saw that Bill hadn't really lost anything at all.

“I think, you're still the man I fell in love with... And you should do whatever you think is healthy for you and your sanity…”

Dipper responded after a moment of thought, carefully wiping the remnants of soap from Bill’s forehead before planting a kiss to the cold surface, receiving a blinding, smile of delight from the older man as he opened his eye. Chocolate met cerulean and Dipper found himself smiling in return before he could stop himself.

“What sanity?”

********************

8 November, 2pm

Bill had passed the Physiotherapy test. At least he didn't have to stay much longer in the hospital for that.

“No strenuous activity or things that involve stretching of the abdomen. Your liver is going to take some time to recover and restore itself, so no alcohol, minimal red meat...make sure the bandages are changed every other day or when damp to prevent infection.”

The elderly nurse read off the document as Bill had prepared to check out of the hospital. Dipper was beside him, listening carefully to what she had to say. He unconsciously licked his lips, hating the part of himself that felt disappointment knowing Bill couldn't fuck him senseless when they finally got back to the apartment. The older man on the other hand was surprisingly diligent, nodding in acknowledgement as he signed the relevant documents and insurance forms. Dipper found himself falling for a whole New side of Bill Cipher; heck, that man would look so sexy doing taxes.

“Please wait a moment for your medication, another nurse will be with you shortly.”

The waiting room was quiet except the occasional sneeze or cough of some other patient, and Dipper particularly enjoyed the way Bill let him sit on his right and snuggle up against his arm. Bill was finally back in his usually yellow tinted attire; a brown knit sweater with mustard yellow skinnies, and Dipper wasn't sure if he knew anyone else that could pull that off.

“You wanna grab some food after this? I'm pretty hungry after all that walking around they made me do…”

Bill chuckled as he looked to Dipper, letting the younger man play with his fingers and trace the scars on his hand. He silently wondered the stories behind each scar, each burn each wound. All the little details about Bill that probably involved some form of bravery and idiocy at the same time; something dangerous yet remarkably hilarious.

Stories that Dipper hadn't heard yet.

The teen hummed softly, looking up to Bill with a smile at the mention of a proper meal with the Latino and the notion of finally being able to explore New York.

“Yeah. I'm feeling like Ramen…? it's been cold recently.”

Dipper suggested, sitting up and bottling up his excitement as a young nurse approached them to pass Bill his medication.

“I'd second that.”

“Mr Cipher, your medication. The ibuprofen is for the headaches, but the other set of orange painkillers are for the bodily aches from the trauma.”

But Dipper really didn't like how close she was standing to Bill, with her hips literally pressed to his shoulder.

*****************

12 November

“Hm, police force, military general…apparently I qualify for a lot of desirable positions.”

“No. Enough dangerous jobs, Bill…you are already injured.”

“I'm no cripple.”

“I didn't say that.”

Dipper countered sharply, tone firm but not warm. He sighed with a difficult smile at the defensive mood Bill had been getting into recently, but quietly settled down on the couch beside him, taking comfort in the way Bill placed his good arm around him almost immediately; like an unsung apology.

He had learned it was easier just to drop it at time like this- there was no point arguing with Bill’s pride. He had lost something great.

Settling himself comfortably on Bill’s side, Dipper glanced to the computer screen again, leaning over as the older man scrolled through job listings in New York.

“How about a private psychologist or a preschool teacher? You have a PHD in psychology don't you?”

Dipper hummed over the lip of his Mug of orange Ceylon tea, pointing to an advert on the laptop screen for a teaching course on psychology.

“I hate kids. And I took only theoretics of psychology for the sake of my job at the CIA...I don't have the experience or confidence to place someone’s mental health in my hands and have them pay me...but-”

Bill paused, tilting his head to side eye Dipper

“How did you know about my PHD?”

His singular blue eye glinted almost sinisterly, gaze intelligent- scouring.

“Wendy told me.”

Dipper lied, almost too easily, his mind flitting back to the thick yellow file he had hastily shoved under the bed when Bill came home. A white lie, his brown eyes unfaltering as he looked back at Bill with a small smile as he continued.

“And well, with the kind of books you were reading i kinda already guessed Psychology was your major. You should make use of it, if you enjoy it that is.”

  
*****************

15 November, 2pm

Dipper spotted an old thrift store right next to the pharmacy he had visited to pick up some painkillers for Bill and figured it wouldn’t hurt to just take a look out of curiosity

Old board games lay cluttered in stacks by the entrance, almost acting as wall dividers themselves, lining narrow passages of old, valued garbage. Ancient cameras, haunted dolls to vintage signs decorated the inside of the store, Dipper having to physically resist the urge to sneeze with all the dust in the air, at risk of breaking something. He tripped over a thick book on the floor while taking a look at a Latin biology journal, catching himself with a soft yelp on the Long cashier counter.

It was then he’d spotted a black leather eye patch hanging off the rack right next to the check out station.

Premium Buffalo Hide, 1964 made in Mexico.

Haha. Yup, definitely getting that

6pm

“Heya, i gotcha something.”

“Hmm?”

Bill hummed, pulling away slightly from spooning Dipper and letting the younger boy scoot forward off the couch to walk to the bathroom. Bill briefly opened his eyes, admiring the way Dipper’s tiny ass looked so good in his tight, black boy shorts as he half-sashayed towards the door to the toilet.

The Latino figured this would probably the best thing he could have ever wished for in his entire sinful, 22 years of living; A time to rest from work, being doted on and having the company of a lover he cared for and knew he could trust, and the New York luxury treatment. It was just the constant, sometimes mind-numbing pain that came back rather frequently due to his multiple wounds and stitches still healing, but got better with time. Also losing an eye, along with some of his self esteem and his ability to manoeuvre on a 3D plane; but such was fate.

“Here. I'd figured it would be useful”

Dipper smiled as he walked quickly back to the bed, presenting the older man with a small, satchel of tracing paper tied with twine. Bill raised a curious eyebrow, but chuckled at the excitement in Dipper’s eyes as he nudged the gift forward, doing his best not to rip it open for Bill out of sheer impatience.

“Open it- I really hope you like it…”

“I will, I really appreciate the notion..”

“The blonde man chuckled in amusement and carefully unwrapped the delicately packaged item, feeling Dipper Kneel back down on the floor to look to him expectantly, clearly not making an effort to hide the glee in his expression.

An eyepatch

“Oh. Thank you, Pine tree”

Bill let out a soft laugh as he picked up the leather patch; a rounded triangular piece of stitched, black buffalo hide strung with 2 thin leather straps.

“Yeah. Now you don't have to change into a new patch everyday!...plus this looks way classier.”

Dipper beamed, gently reaching up to remove Bill’s current white cotton, temporary patch from the hospital that he had to change daily, revealing His empty eye socket. The older man’s smile did falter visibly as Dipper did that; something The teen did not fail to pick up on.

“You should let the wound breathe more often, like the doctor said.”

He hummed softly, leaning over to plant a soft kiss to the repaired ridge above which Bill’s left eye once rested, causing the blonde to stiffen slightly, almost flinching.

“You don't have to wear a patch around me or in the house, Bill...it doesn't matter to me, I know you mean so much more to me than just your looks.”

Dipper finished, smiling warmly to Bill as the older man stretched out his good arm to cup the side of Dipper’s face in wordless awe.

They slept pretty well that night; Dipper curled up to Bill’s chest with his nose nuzzled to the older man’s nape.

****************

23rd November

“Watcha cooking?”

Dipper asked inquisitively, popping his head over Bill’s injured shoulder to see the man working with a pot, the commode filled with a tangy brown sauce and chunks of potatoes and carrots.

“Stew. Vegetables only, just like you wanted.”

Bill hummed softly in response, the younger man giving a pleasant sound of approval as he leaned in to kiss Bill on the cheek

“Sorry- I'm just not a big fan or meat and stuff…”

“It's fine- my liver definitely appreciates it.”

Dipper hadn't meant to laugh as loud as he did, but decided not to think about it too much as Bill chuckled along and turned to face him, looking to him with a soft, loving gaze. Dipper promised himself he wasn't going to melt, but simply crumbled into Bill’s strong chest as the Latino held him tight with one arm. He smelt like cornflakes and the forest; and Dipper swore he wanted to forget about everything and live like this forever.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya peeps-
> 
> Jeez this week has been rough- /Lays down/
> 
> Whelp this chapter is a little smth different! I hope you enjoyed the little snippets of their life I decided to put together! Because I just had so many ideas of these cute moments and I just didn't know which to focus a whole chapter on :'> /author issues/ 
> 
> So here- have some random fluff to cure the angst and horror that once was this grunge fic! I hope this helps distinguish their relationship a BIT more for now! More will be revealed next time :>
> 
> But seriously- this is the best things are gonna be for a while so don't get used to it- /winks evilly like a lizard/ 
> 
> Things to note:
> 
> The dates- sorta. I made This fic a little more complicated and cryptic than it should be- so the dates and timelines are a lill impt :'> (I may have to write a whole journal about this jahshdjdkjfkfkffl)
> 
> The way characters respond can be too subtle (as pointed out by my beta-) and may not necessarily help a reader decipher (HAHHA see what I did there) is going on or their emotions at the moment :< I apologise for that and will definitely work towards writing better! 
> 
> All comments welcome on what you thought! HAHAHAHA I really appreciate all this support fml what have I done to deserve this SoBs----


	19. Chapter 19

1st December 

“God, I really want to have sex with him.”

Dipper groaned over the phone as he walked outta the grocery store, a paper bag full of food in one arm and the phone in another. The cold was getting more bitter now, nipping like agitated crabs in a tide pool at his toes and his fingertips. Dipper had to pull his scarf up over his Chin just so he wouldn't get cold sores from the dry wind.

“Did you tell em?”

Pacifica hummed over the line, filling down her nails as she sat in her warm bubble bath, placing Dipper on speaker at the side of her tub.

“Well, I mean. He is still recovering...I wouldn't want him to dislocate a rib while fucking me.”

The younger boy breathed out with a small puff of laughter, adjusting his grip on the grocery bag as he realised he almost forgot what it was like to have Bill touch him.

“Yeah, that wouldn't be fun for anyone.”

The blonde lamented in agreement over the line, heart sinking as she heard Dipper sigh in response.

“I still think it doesn't hurt to just let him know, honey. He probably is feeling really shitty and insecure too about all that’s happening.”

She advised, Dipper jumping out of the way of incoming New York Traffic, trying his best to pretend barely avoiding death on a busy junction was just a daily occurrence for him.

“Mm- i’ll...i’ll think about it. Really depends on how much of a slut i wanna be…”

“Well, Carlos and the rest of the boys are leaving next weekend, so it’s either you come back this friday or you get yourself some dick over there, if not you’ll be on a dry spell for at least another week Honey…”

Dipper nodded even though he knew Pacifica couldn't see, the reality of everything like a heavy brick in his gut. He knew the truth to her words as he stepped into the apartment complex, trying hard to fish out the keys as he sandwiched the phone between his ear and shoulder.

Carlos. Another issue he had to sort out.

“Okay, i’ll keep you posted, i gotta go now and take care of Bill.”

“Okay, Bye baby.”

“Bye.”

Dipper hung up, unlocking the door as he slid his phone into his pocket with practiced ease. As it clicked open, he immediately caught sight of the familiar head of fluffy blonde hair sitting in the living room in front of the door. He smiled, silently thankful yet again that Bill was out of the hospital.

And all his troubles seemed to fade away.

“Hey.”

Bill’s smile was blinding as he heard the door open and Dipper’s voice echo in the living room

“Whatcha get?”

“Eggs...Avocados and some of the canned stuff you wanted.”

“Beans?”

“Yup. kidney, black and red.”

Bill hummed in delight at Dipper’s apparent choice of beans, shifting painstakingly off the living room couch to stand up as the teen placed the groceries on the kitchen counter.

“Thank you, Sugar Pine…”

Bill mumbled softly, genuinely grateful for Dipper’s help as he slowly made his way to the kitchen in a pained, steady stumble, wrapping his arm around the Boy’s waist affectionately. Dipper laughed as the older man keened comfortably, letting Bill Nuzzle his nose to his neck as he unpacked the food to be sorted into the cupboards.

The silence was comfortable, and Bill’s body was warm and smelt clean, a nice change from the sooty air on the streets outside the apartment. Dipper could feel a prickle of heat creep across his skin that definitely wasn't from the wooden sweater he was wearing

“Hey Bill…?”

Dipper broke the silence first, throat clearing as he bit his lower lip, thinking of how to phrase his next sentence so he wouldn't sound desperate.

“Yeah?”

“I...I really wanna have sex. With you, that is...so, once you start feeling better…”

Dipper found himself unable to continue what he had impulsively started, the words lost in his throat as Bill continued to hold him close, breathing out softly by his ear as he had spoke. Around them, Dipper noticed the soft Spanish blues playing from the radio in the living room, the almost muted vocals of what must have been Latin, a man singing softly in a comforting tenor

“La garganta que ansío mojar, Que temo ahogar de amor….”

(The throat that I long to wet/choke(?)  
But I'm afraid I'll drown in love)

“What song is that?”

Dipper asked with a soft chuckle, trying to diverge the topic away from his embarrassing conversation. He honestly was unable to process what the lyrics of the song even meant, because his brain was already struggling to cope with the warm sensation of Bill’s lips brushing past his skin. And Bill had other ideas, sighing softly as he nipped the back of the younger man’s ear, shucking his good hand under the teen’s dark blue sweater to stroke his lower abdomen, eliciting a soft yelp from the teen below him.

“I’ll be honest, same here, Pine tree...i just wanna bend you over the counter and take ya. Right now.”

Bill’s voice was a gentle growl, soft and warm, one that send a pillowy warmth down his chest straight to his groin, the palm tracing gentle circles on his stomach not helping in the least.

“No- Bill...you’re still hurt- hey…”

Dipper stumbled as he felt Bill gently start rubbing his groin in the curve of his skinny jeans, the Older man’s mouth already attached to the back of his neck.

“Tell me if you REALLY don't want this…”

Bill mumbled calmly, but Dipper could hear the subtle desperation in his tone when the older man’s voice hitched up in a soft whine. His breath was hot against Dipper’s spine, touch warm and careful as he paused slightly upon hearing Dipper’s initial rejection. slipped his good hand down to Dipper’s zipper, the younger boy now scrambling to regain his bearings as he turned around to face Bill.

“I really don't want this right now, Bill.”

Dipper said, a little more confidence in his voice as he looked up to the Latino, his own back now pressed against the edge of the kitchen counter. He read Bill’s face, whose expression Dipper could only describe as pained as he almost pulled away.  
Dipper set his lips into a hard line, immediately leaning forward to caress Bill’s jawline and tugged his collar down to settle their lips into a gentle kiss.

“Not. Right now. When you're better…”

The teen hummed softly against the older man’s lips, grinning as Bill smiled and kissed him back; tentatively at first, then deeper, soft and passionate, holding him close and nuzzling their noses together.

Bill seemed almost grateful for the contact, Dipper absentmindedly stroking a hand down his right arm, feeling the stiff muscle beneath the folded sleeves of the blonde’s grey button up. He seemed pretty satisfied with Dipper’s soft moans between their kisses, so the teen didn't think much about the way Bill seemed to be all over him recently; he had always took Bill for the touchy, kinesthetic type. In fact, he quite enjoyed it. But this time, Bill seemed a little- desperate.

“What about some….Heavy Petting?”

Dipper blushed slightly, his cheeks heating up at Bill’s sudden suggestive and flirtatious, yet hideously outdated, almost historic and artistic word choice.

“God, you're disgusting…”

Dipper laughed breathlessly in response, breath hitching nervously as Bill continued to nibble along his jawline and down his neck with a wicked smile.

“Yes...but I'm also horny, and poetry from the romantic era isn't cutting it anymore.”

Bill uttered, voice falling an octave as he paused to simply Whisper against Dipper’s skin, holding the boy close to him almost possessively. Dipper gulped as he looked down to see Bill peering to him with a hungry eye, jaw set with some strange form of determination.

“I haven't seen you in so Long- and now you're right here, fuck…I-I know- I just wished..”

The Latino suddenly smiled in a way that was rather cynical, his words leaving his lips in a disappointed sigh.

He knew Dipper needed this. He knew the implications that came with a kid with Daddy issues and he couldn't just lock him up here and expect him not to go astray. Because as much as Bill hated himself for ever thinking that way, he knew out there, there were far better candidates than him for his precious little pine tree. Men with more money, better temperaments, more patience, better looks and definitely with more than one eye.

Closing his singular eye, Bill stiffened as he felt Dipper comb his fingers through his blonde, tousled locks, the simple action enough to cause him to lose all train of coherent thought. The teen on the other hand, let out a shuddering breath, unsure of how else to respond to the older man’s implicit moment of vulnerability.

“Bill…”

The older man slowly tilted his head upwards at the sound of his name, pressing his nose to the underside of Dipper’s neck as he grazed his teeth past the pale column. He gave a half-hearted, soft hum in response, hearing Dipper inhale sharply, the Boy’s jugular jolting beneath his lips.

“Bill, stop it- please.”

Dipper tried softly at first, inching his face away from the older man defensively as he lowered his head. He pressed his palms to the nook of Bill’s elbows, pushing the man back hesitantly, but with enough strength for his certainty to be understood. Bill drew back obediently that time, straightening himself out, recoiling almost like a slinky, retreating as he gave Dipper some room to breathe,

“I'm sorry- I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Bill mumbled, gaze falling, awkwardly scratching at his cast at the lack of appropriation on what to do with his hands. The flat out refusal was definitely doing things to his confidence and his usual brazen approaches, and impatience was quickly replacing disappointment. He swallowed, hating how much assertiveness he had to muster up just so he dared to look up yet again, watching as Dipper’s jaw set tentatively beneath his sharp gaze. His muddy brown eyes almost frightened, concerned, lips parted to speak; an expression Bill wished he hadn't chose to see as Pity.

“I'll help ya pack up.”

“N-no...Bill, you should- just, it's fine. I can do it…”

Dipper managed as the older man turned to pack up the cans, only to have his words outright unacknowledged. After a moment of tense silence, Dipper decided it was best not to say much else and just let Bill help out, keeping a close eye on him just in case.

There was the soft shuffling of paper as Bill continued sorting things, the silence heavy in the air, thick and cold. But as Dipper bent down to drop a bag of flour in the lower cabinet below the sink, he heard Bill inhale sharply, biting back a groan as he reached up to place something in the overhead shelves.

Something went off inside Dipper, instinct- one could call it. He had dropped whatever he had on hand, scrambling to his feet, darting to Bill’s side without thinking twice. Placing a gentle hand on the latino’s arm, Dipper felt his heart skip a beat, unsure of what he could possibly say or do to make this situation any better as Bill hissed slightly and stopped reaching up.

“What is it- I'm fine.”

At the feeling of Dipper’s touch against his forearm, Bill felt his stomach knot in apprehension, the vitriol rising in his Throat, threatening to spill as he held back a pained moan. The feeling of his skin being stretched, his stomach churning in agony at the simple act of reaching upwards; an action one could only be guilty of for taking for granted. Dipper’s eyes were kind and he seemed worried; almost as if he was caught between a rock and a hard place.

“I'm worried about you Bill.”

“Don't patronise me.”

His words were sharp and cutting, and Bill swore he instantly regretted them the moment they left his throat.

“...I'm not. I care about you.”

The teen countered, lips pursed as his brow knitted in confusion, his fingers gently stroking Bill’s forearm hesitantly. He looked visibly upset, somewhat shaken at the notion that Bill assumed he was just throwing him a pity party.

“I'm a broken man, Pine tree, but I know what pity sounds like.”

“For the last time- I am not Pitying you!”

Dipper suddenly bit back, lips curling in an ugly snarl as he tore his eyes away from Bill’s, hand slipping off his lover’s forearm to curl into fists at his sides

“God, you love the sound of your own voice don't you- shut up and listen to me.”

Bill was evidently taken aback, and Dipper could almost feel the man’s demeanour growing cold, settling heavy on the already weighted atmosphere, pregnant with apprehension. He didn't dare look up, but he was pretty sure he could sense Bill’s piercing blue eye drilling a hole through his skull at the accusation.

“I...I can't bear seeing you like this, Bill. You mean a lot to me- I don't want you getting any more hurt.”

He breathed out, now calmer, voice wavering as he reached for the hem of Bill’s sweater and took a brave step forward. His heart was pounding, eyes hot and chest tightening,the fingers he had clenched onto Bill’s clothes like his sole anchor for empathy; Dipper never did like fights, but confrontation was necessary at times and he had felt that standing up for himself was now required, even if that meant raising his voice at someone he cared about.

“You lied to me, got yourself injured and just- look where I am right now. I chose to stay here and come see you on my own accord...can you at least give me that?”

Dipper finished, timidly looking up to meet Bill’s softening gaze as the older man proceeded to sigh softly. And It hurt. It physically hurt Bill at the way Dipper had flinched when he had raised a hand, only intending to pet the boy and apologise.

As gentle fingers rested in Dipper’s chestnut locks, Bill gingerly placed an arm around Dipper, worried that the younger boy now curled up against his chest would dart off if he didn't hold him close.

“I'm sorry...I shouldn't have said things like that…”

Bill uttered softly, sighing in relief as he nuzzled his nose in Dipper’s hair; he still smelt like the blonde’s shampoo, and Bill couldn't help but ask in the comforting warmth that engulfed him as he felt Dipper carefully hug him back.

“I love you, little tree. I really do. I know I'm being difficult.”

“Yeah. You are the absolute worse…”

Bill could say nothing in return, and simply combed back the locks from Dipper’s forehead, planting a soft, lingering kiss to his temple. As Dipper felt Bill’s warm lips against his forehead in a small, intimate gesture, he tipped his head upwards slightly and managed to land a kiss on Bill’s lower lip before pulling back slightly.

His chocolate eyes looked tired, his pale cheeks slightly flustered from the cold outside as he gave a lopsided smile, reaching forward with both hands to grasp Bill’s.

“But you are the man I fell for. That can't exactly be helped- can it?”

Dipper chuckled softly, and Bill swore his heart simply melted, the guilt washing over him like a tidal wave.

“It's not entirely your fault, though. I'm sorry this is how things turned out…you're the one of the last people in the world I'd want anything to happen to.”

The younger man continued, reaching up yet again to swipe a thumb carefully under the hole in the side of Bill’s chiseled face, wonderfully bare and exposed just for him. Warbled flesh, inked dark beneath thin skin, tender and hot with blood that clotted where stitches once were. 13 in total, the surgeon had dutifully noted.

Beneath his thumb, Dipper swore he felt Bill tremble slightly, and he swallowed, uncertain of how to cope with someone he so greatly adored sharing a horribly vulnerable and intimate moment with him. Bill had closed his other eye, thin lips drawn taut, shoulders stiff, elbows buckled.

“I think I like you. A lot. I think I've been very fond of you for a while now.”

Dipper admitted rather cautiously, wary of his word choice, mindful of his tone as he smiled, prompting Bill too look back up to him, pupil dilating in his clear blue eye.

“Fond.”

“Yeah.”

Dipper smiled, innocently letting out a small giggle as he saw the mild surprise on Bill’s face.

“You're intelligent, sexy, you cook, you're opinionated…”

He listed, smile growing wider with each syllable until he slowly began to register the hurt starting to build in the older man’s expression

“Bill, what's wrong-”

“Well...Dipper, l..excuse me.”

“--!”

Bill had turned away, awkwardly at first, pivoting almost a full 90 degrees so he could get out of Dipper’s hold. He then stumbled over to limp down the corridor of the apartment toward the bedroom.

“Bill-”

A deep breath was drawn from the older male, a silent pause, almost dramatic, before he exhaled. Dipper felt his heart strings twisting around his lungs, trapping his breath, watching Bill turn his back to him.

“It's fine- I...just need some air. Sorry.”

*************************

Look at those cuts  
Those bruises  
Those rose petaled burns;  
Each one  
A battle with yourself  
Lost.

4.27pm

It had been an hour or so since Bill had left the room, and an hour or so since Dipper had started on the newest chapter of this thesis project. He had another 2 semesters left in college next year before he was out of school, so he’d figured he should just use his book as a submission piece either way.

Theory of relation

The associative theory of philosophy and depression.

;

It's funny, how artistic we get when we’re sad.

That's how Dipper had decisively wanted his book to start off, and he smiled, recalling how it took him exactly 3 weeks to think of the opening to the novel, something his professor still griped him for. But alas, art can never be rushed; even a nut like Francis Bacon did his best works only hours before the exhibition opened its doors

Sighing softly, Dipper cracked his knuckles, stretching his arms after being in the same position for so Long. He paused just to zone out for a minute, his thoughts repetitively going back to the man in the Bedroom; and he frowned. He sincerely hated the way Bill had spoken to him, but he had taken it in his stride to be as accommodating as possible when it came to Bill losing his temper, for the man had loss some things great.

Slipping off the barstool, Dipper decided he wouldn't be able to concentrate any longer until things were at least okay in regards to what was happening with Bill. His last response had been rather curious, and while Dipper knew it was best to give him space, he also naturally just wanted to check in on his partner. The evening was terribly cold that night, and Dipper sure as hell didn't want to sleep alone in the living room on the couch anyways.

The marble floor was cool beneath his feet as he turned on the tap to get Bill a glass of water before heading towards their shared bedroom at the end of the hall. He knocked tentatively, only to receive no answer.

“Bill?”

Pressing his ear to the door, Dipper only heard the calm hum of the radiator, murmuring innocently inside the closed bedroom. It seemed like a deja vu, almost, like the time in October he had gone to Bill’s apartment, only to see that everyone and everything was gone.

Turning the doorknob bravely, Dipper swallowed in apprehension, the hinge creaking open silently to reveal the drab, modernised bedroom. The bedsheets were still folded up, neat and unfurled. The clothes that Dipper had taken out of the dryer in the laundry basket had already been folded up and kept in the closet or hung up neatly; but the room was otherwise devoid of life. He shuffled in, closing the door behind him and turned to the balcony where the handle appeared unlock, peeping out from between the heavy white curtains.

Bill was outside, leaning across the iron wrought railings of the balcony. Shirtless. In 5 degree weather.

The younger man’s immediate reaction was to grab Bill and drag him back inside, but he stopped himself, deciding to just watch momentarily.

The balcony lights briefly illuminated Him, casting shadows across every piece of sculpted muscle that seemed carved into the plane of Bill’s broad back. Dipper swallowed what could have been an impending groan of delight, letting his eyes trail across the black, inked patterns of Bill’s back, each a winding trail of symbolic imagery and verses. From the all seeing eye on the back of his neck, spindles of fire leading to a Phoenix with a hissing cobra in its Talons, a trail of what could have been crow, ravens leaking from what looked like an old scar just below his left shoulder blade. There was falling feathers, dropping down to the image of a sugar skull groom dancing with his bride; roses and carnations blossoming around them as an elegant European dragon rose bravely from the small of his back

And then it stopped.

White bandages wrapped around Bill’s lower torso, soaked yellow with iodine, putting an abrupt stop to the fairy tale. Bruises littered the sides of his waist, blooming across the storyboard that was his back, red and purple and yellow and ugly, like a toddler’s first go at watercolour

Vida Magica

(Life is magical: it's the tattoo I mentioned Bill having below the all seeing eye much earlier on in the fic)

Next to the older man’s elbows rested an ash tray, the one from inside the bedroom, now stuffed with still smoking joints, spluttered onto the sand inside the commode. Dipper counted them, but only briefly registered the number as a lot.

Bill had been thinking a lot, it seemed.

*************

The cold was piercing, the wind blowing softly, whistling peacefully past Dipper’s ears as he forced open the balcony door with his foot, a blanket in one hand and a cup of tea in the other. At the sound of the sliding door opening, Bill had turned, slowly; first looking over his shoulder before making a full 180 at the sight of Dipper at the balcony window, all things in hand as he shut the door behind him with a click

“Dipper, it's cold...get back inside.”

Bill started, stubbing the cigarette he had on hand as he limped over to the balcony door so he could help Dipper could get back inside.

“Says you. Here...don't stay out here too Long, tough guy...I brought you something to drink.”

Dipper smiled slightly as he placed the warm tea on the balcony table, the wail of a police siren suddenly sounding in the distance as he unfolded the blanket and pressed it to Bill’s chest. The Latino’s expression was unreadable under the dim lighting, harsh shadows shrouding his handsome countenance in cool shades of gray. But Dipper decided he didn't care what it was. After all, he never really did care what anyone thought about what he was doing.

He leaned in to press a kiss to Bill’s collarbones, letting his lips linger there on the cold surface, taking in Bill’s heady scent and the screeching stench of nicotine and smoke. This was the man he fell for. Professional liar, secret agent, psychology nerd brilliant genius Son of a bitch.

“I'll be in the shower if you wanna join me.”

The teen whispered after a short pause, trying his best to hide the blush that crept across his features as he brushed his fingertips across Bill’s chest. He slipped away quickly, giving the older man no time to react as he went back into the bedroom, heading straight to the restroom to wash up.

Dipper locked his arms against the sink as he entered sighing a deep breath, looking himself in the eye as he stared down his face in the pristine mirror. God, his face was red.

He wanted Bill to rough him up, pin him against the wall and fuck him stupid; then slow and passionate, sloppy kisses and gentle touches. Lingering spots of hot breaths and bite marks, printed into flesh, a sickeningly natural way of letting know he belong to Cipher.

William B. Cipher

The man with the bright blue eyes.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy fuckshit
> 
> This ChApter ssurreeeee came up later than anticipated.
> 
> WHlep sorry this took so Long Ma dudes, but Long story short just moved to New York for the school break and settled in with my big Sister :> it's kinda freaky actually what the hell I am Dipper Pines in my story HAHAHAHAH wHat is this foreShAdowing-
> 
> Mmmmmmm in this chapter I tried to delve into Bill's psyche more. I really did my best and hope that gives y'all more insight into what's happening in that dumbbutt's mind LOlolOL
> 
> And I feel like Dipper has many questions of his own that he has started asking himself, and I assure you that will arise in further chapters. Bill is a broken man who has lost everything now :> just keep that in mind... /wheezes/
> 
> Fml I'm sure y'all can see where this chapter is leading too; something I'm sure we all have anticipated for very Long  
> :> but before I post that chapter I would like to thank everyone who has been continuously supporting and sharing this fic :> I couldn't have done it without you guys! 
> 
> Also remember the tags; everything is not what it seems


	20. Chapter 20

  
5pm

The warm water felt hot down Dipper’s back, numbing and unforgiving as steam lolled off his skin and dissipated up into the bathroom vents. The heater groaned gutturally as he cranked the heat way up and sucked in a deep breath, only letting his lungs relax when the frost had slipped off his fingertips and a sticky warmth crept around his neck. Water hit his back and slid off the divet of his clavicles, sensually coating his skin a mellow layer of steam and comfort as he listened to the therapeutic sound of water hitting the tiled, shower room floor.

Relax. He had to relax. This was his ‘me’ time.

Shower contemplation must have been a usual thing for everyone, and Dipper thought he might try to smoke a bowl before bed just so he wouldn't think too much about his feelings or his relationship with Bill. It was tiring; trying to be nice and irrational while talking with Bill. Especially in his current state of righteous disarray.

You see, Dipper thought in numbers and digits and normalities and statistics and all that fun stuff- and philosophy for him was a game just as much as it was a field of study or a topic for discourse. But Bill-

Bill was the personification of a spark of pure adrenaline, an I-can-feel-it-in-my-gut form of blind luck and sheer intelligence. This all coupled well with the veil of sadistic cynicism he wore to shield off his past of course, giving his dark, sensitive personality the outward trait of-- ‘Eccentric. He was a gambler of fate, time and emotion, and boy, did he know exactly how to play his hand. Which made Dipper above all else; uneasy and frankly untrusting of the older male. Yes, feelings were one thing. But what about the mind; the gut? The proverbial feeling of twisting and wringing in your stomach you just know something is going to go horribly wrong but you can't do anything to stop it?

Heaving in a soft sigh, Dipper could almost hear his Grunkle Ford’s words ringing in his mind, his tone haughty, dismissive of any other argument.

“Gut Dipper. Not the heart. The metaphorical gods up there gave us Flight-or-Fight for a reason.”

A few gentle knocks were what broke Dipper’s otherwise peaceful train of thought, and he scarcely remembered to breathe as he turned around, so his back faced the opening of the shower door. Water splashed down his forehead as he opened his mouth the speak, the heat seeping to his cheeks despite his attempt to remain unfazed.

“Come in.”

A blast of cooler air filled the room as the bathroom door was opened and shut, and Dipper felt his heartbeat prick as the sound of a belt buckle clicking open and jeans being shucked off. He closed his eyes, inhaling softly as his name was called

“Dipper.”

“Yeah, I said come in.”

The shower door opened, and Dipper willed himself not to straighten up and remain calm. He felt the looming presence of the man behind him, his baritone coming out in a soft sigh as he stepped into the frosted glass room.

“Kinda warm in here, huh?”

Bill chuckled, Dipper smiling in response despite acknowledging that it was simply Bill’s gracious attempt to lift the heavy atmosphere of whatever it was between them.

“Hah. Yeah. I...it was pretty cold out there, today.”

He stammered, despite himself, ignoring the almost irresistible urge to crack his head open against the bathroom wall. There was a small space of comfortable silence as Bill shuffled closer to shower, the water still falling, still dripping off his hair and down his shoulders

“......Hey, Dipper…”

The younger boy jumped slightly at the sound of Bill’s voice echoing off the walls and hunched his shoulders almost defensively, relaxing only when he heard silence follow. Bill seemed to notice, and Dipper could feel him staring him down, taking him apart. Naked. Bare. Vulnerable.

“It's okay. I'm...not mad.”

Dipper didn't lift his head as Bill stepped closer to him and held on to his hip, letting the older man’s Long, cool fingers slide down the curve of his waist. Bill's tone was genteel, sincere, and the teen took some comfort in the words spoken, despite being unsure of whether he could trust that statement or not. He shuddered, sucking in a small breath as Bill leaned in slightly and whispered in a gentle sigh

“i'm sorry about earlier...I just- I overreacted. I shouldn't have imposed anything on you.”

His breath smelt of nicotine and Dipper nodded slightly, tilting his head to the side just to give Bill a peck on the corner of his mouth.

“It's okay, I know you have a lot to think about.”

“That doesn't mean I have an excuse to be an asshole.”

The older man replied in slight defensiveness, and Dipper had to stifle a laugh as he turned to look Bill directly in the face

“Haha- no...no- you're right.. it doesn't..”

He smiled, sighing softly in relief as Bill bumped their noses together with a minute smile and kissed him full on the lips, softly, gently, nipping Dipper’s lower lip albeit tantalizingly before slowly pulling back

“Your cast- we really shouldn't get it wet.”

Dipper breathed out at the juncture, hands now bravely finding their way to Bill’s sides and his chest, roaming the bruised, scarred Tan skin, almost in awe of the way life pulsated beneath his palms. He hated how much he had sank back into his lewd desires despite his earlier attempt to refuse Bill’s initial advances

“Mm. I'll get it removed by the end of the week. Don't worry-”

Bill hummed, kissing The younger boy yet again as he opened his mouth to object once more, feeling Dipper’s sound of slight frustration turn into a swallowed moan as their lips slotted together sensually.

“It's gonna stink-”

The teen groaned once again in mild protest, only to be silenced by Bill grasping his bare ass, Long digits digging into supple flesh in a manner just short of commanding. Impatience almost, but yet an attempt that held fast to a shred of desperation

“Hush.”

Voice dark and serious, Bill nipped up Dipper’s neck, sucking a soft mark at his jugular and giving his ass another squeeze just for good measure. Dipper gasped in initial shock, cheek now pressed to Bill’s shoulder as he felt himself leaning into the older man’s touch almost immediately, breath warming Bill’s clavicles in the most enticing of ways. Dipper could hear Bill’s heartbeat. Present. Steady, scintillant and steadfast.

“Pine Tree. Please...don't think. Focus on me.”

Just- Almost tangible.

And as rugged arms pushed him against the warmed shower walls, Dipper relented partially, keeping his hands on Bill’s warm body, his fingertips grazing warm muscle and sun-kissed skin. He tipped his head back, and basked in the way Bill ravished him, amazed at how delicately such calloused, rough hands held him so carefully, almost gliding over the each curve of his body.

“I'm here. You're here.”

Breathe, breathe

Dipper had to remember to take in air through his mouth and force it down his throat as the water rained down on them; heavy and hot, Bill’s teeth against his neck and white hot brushes of his lips against his skin.

“Bill…”

The teen groaned, unsure of what other words to make as he arched his back, feeling the older man carefully rubbing their groins together, hips jerky and almost unsteady. As much as Dipper hated to admit it his cock ached with need as he did his best to get friction against Bill’s thigh, almost letting out a frustrated mewl as Bill pulled away briefly to adjust their positions.

“Sugar Pine.”

His voice was calm and grounding, Dipper coming down from the explicit high as he paused to formulate something to say to fill the silence, Bill’s index finger gently rubbing at his rim, the tight ring of muscle twitching instinctively at just the briefest of contact.

“Yeah?”

“Can I…?”

Bill prodded gently at his entrance, fingers wet and prepared as the younger boy flushed hot with anticipation, trying his best to not just ease Himself against the older man’s digits just yet. He had been waiting for this for the longest time, and Bill’s well-groomed fingertips gently scraping against his inner thigh was driving him insane.

“Yes- but- promise me you’ll be careful…your body isn't in the best shape for this.”

Dipper sighed in mild annoyance, lightly trailing a hand across Bill’s bandaged Abdomen. He tipped his head back against the wall so he could look up at Bill, slightly disgruntled with the current circumstances, but watched as the older man smiled, something soft and pleasant. Dipper registered partial hesitation as Bill carefully eased a digit into the his entrance, but Dipper did his best not to let out too much of a groan at the sudden intrusion. He made a soft sound of satisfaction instead as Bill gripped his thigh and lifted his leg to make it easier for his second finger to slip in, patiently making sure the younger boy was comfortable. Dipper had clutched onto Bill’s arm, another arm around his back, a leg poised almost dramatically as Bill fingered him loose,

“Mmm...”

Bill growled, slowly scissoring the younger boy open as he proceeded to claw at Bill’s back, almost struggling to stand as the older man nailed his prostate effortlessly, stroking the organ dutifully as Dipper let out a series of breathless whimpers

“Hhha- fuck...you remembered…”

“Yeah. Of course I did…”

Bill chuckled, sealing their lips together in a steamy kiss as their noses knocked, Dipper pulling Bill against him and shuddering as hot water trickled down Bill’s fingers and into him. He gasped, clutching on tight to the man before him, squeezing his eyes shut as Bill’s cock pressed up against his own, their bodies languidly undulating together under the steady stream of warm water.

“Condom-”

“It's okay. I'm clean. Hurry-”

Dipper mumbled as Bill broke their kiss to breathe, pressing a palm to Bill’s broad chest to steady himself as the Latino withdrew his fingers carefully.  
He knew Bill wasn't sick; he was rather a gentleman when they first hooked up, one of the few men Dipper had been with that offered the condom first. His file said he was screened just that January as well.

“Same here but- You sure?”

Bill took a moment just to look at the disheveled boy below him, clinging to his cast, hair wet and matted as he looked up with swollen lips and pretty brown eyes. Dipper nodded; He was gorgeous. And the Latino didn't ever want to do anything to harm him ever again.

This boy he had met at a random party he had so spontaneously decided to intrude on. The boy he had fallen So madly in love with the moment he stood his ground to argue about the rights to a constitution with free entry permits. The boy he had fucked so madly into the creaky mattress of a shoddy hotel room that very night, wishing nights on end he could do it all over again some place better.

Bill’s brows knitted slightly, lips pressing into a silent hum at the thought as he paused before setting Dipper back on the ground. The boy looked surprised, knees knocking slightly as Bill saw the desperate erection upright between his milky white thighs, the tip flushed, red hot with Need.

“I don't wanna drop you. Turn around.”

Bill explained briefly, guiding Dipper’s hips full circle so the boy’s back was facing him, arse perky and resting nicely in his palm. He nuzzled his nose against the boy’s hairline, leaning In to press a lingering kiss to the back of Dipper’s ear as the smaller boy let out a small puff of acknowledgement. He was trembling, arms buckled against the tiled walls as Bill pressed into him, the usual pain searing up his spine, his soft cry falling short of the sound of splattering, steaming water.

It was good.

To feel another man against his back, another man breathing hot down his neck. And It should have been Mediocre sex. Average at least; with the way Bill’s hips jerked forward awkwardly, almost unable to fully align his cock with Dipper’s entrance. Almost like a drunkard, but with care, no alcohol, more coherent. Bill’s groans were pained at times, moans nothing short of grunts and gasps, mumblings of Dipper’s nickname against the back of The boy’s neck as Bill thrusted into him.

“Sugar pine…”

But yet, there Dipper was, a moaning mess against the wall, back dipped in submission as Bill’s thick cock stretched him open, large hands groping his frame in the most sensual of ways. Hips pivoted, the sound of wet skin slapping skin as Bill picked up the pace, thrusting harder, deeper as Dipper bit down on his knuckles and shuddered with pleasure.

“S-slow down- Bill..”

Something felt off, even as Bill listened and gave a breathy apology, continuing to nail Dipper’s prostate with slow, deep thrusts, passionate and needy until the teen gave out beneath him with a whine of pleasure.

And Dipper felt terrible.

Because one way or another- that was what this kind of sex did to people.

Destroy them; simplify their relationship down to the most physical and primal of needs. Not necessarily to trivialize as much as it were to take things a step further. Skin on skin, the furthest you could go with someone you love, or at least someone you desired. Someone you could trust to hold your body for the night.  
A declaration of some sort- A way to mark your territory. Maybe. Maybe that was what it was.  
Monopolising what you wanted. Taking something from the person in your arms.

The reddened teeth marks in his skin spelled ‘commitment’, the fresh love bites and small bruises along his neck like a collar around his body, shackling him to the man currently holding him up, drying him off and planting soft kisses in his hair.

“Baby, you still with me?”

Bill’s voice was a rusty baritone by his ear, lips so fiery hot as they pressed softly to his shoulder, startling Dipper, almost, as the teen looked back into the mirror. The Tan, strong arms, wrapping a fluffy towel around him and holding him close. A singular cerulean eye pierced the fog of the steam coated bathroom mirror, meeting Dipper’s as the younger boy nodded, lashes fluttering shut.

Too much. It was all too much.

*********************

“Was I too rough? I'm sorry if it hurt…”

Bill mumbled, resting a hand carefully on Dipper’s hip, his cast bumping unceremoniously against the younger boy’s back. Dipper shook his head lightly against the pillow, looking out the balcony window of the room at the skyscrapers and the measly dotted streets of neon and smoke, Bill laying behind him, holding him close.

“No...it was fine…”

He responded softly, feeling Bill sigh in relief, a comfortable silence settling over them as The older man nuzzled his nose to Dipper's Hair and adjusted his position slightly. His hands and chest were warm and comforting against The teen’s body, grounding him against the soft mattress under the duvet. He snuggled deeper into the depths of a hoodie Bill had lent him, the now familiar scent of Bill simply intoxicating him, swallowing him up in a void of thoughtlessness and security. He was unable to process thoughts at that moment, or even feelings. His brain space was filled with mush.

“How is your stomach? Does it hurt any?”

Dipper asked after a moment more of impartial thought, now playing with the Long fingers resting on his own abdomen as he stared out into the starlit sky. He noticed how the bed was soft and warm beneath them, Bill’s weight dipping down comfortably in the space behind his body.

“No. It feels a little funky but nothing painful. I didn't push myself Too hard...don't worry.”

The blonde replied with a small chuckle, letting Dipper gently tug at his fingers and trace the scars on his palm, clearly alone with his thoughts.

“Hey. What are you thinkin’ about?

“Nothing…it's just…”

Dipper trailed off with a small sigh, turning around in Bill’s arms so he could face the older man. Bill had looked down to him curiously, his head propped up in his good hand with his elbow in the pillow.

“What…?”

He smiled, blonde hair a fluffy mess, falling over his face and partially obscuring the hole in his left eye socket. Dipper couldn't help but smile back, tucking his lips back into a tight, almost grimace as he realised he just might cry.

“Hey, If this is about earlier…I've told you. It's fine. You have your own feelings and that's okay.”

The older man had stammered in response, quickly changing his position so he could tilt Dipper’s Chin up to look him in The Eye. The teen sniffled briefly in response, his eyes meeting Bill's for a moment before looking back to the sheets in embarrassment, not used to being so vulnerable in front of anyone else but his family. Bill felt his heart clench in his chest, the breath in his lungs sucked outta him as he spotted tears quickly forming in Dipper’s downcast eyes when he tore his face away.

“But are you really okay with that?”

Dipper said quietly, voice barely above a Whisper, fingers twisted in the blanket covers as he chewed his lower lip.

“The real question here is- are you okay with that?”

Bill reinstated softly, laying down on the pillow to level Dipper’s gaze as they lay in silence, Bill reaching to comb the hair from Dipper’s forehead. Brushing it away from his teary eyes. The younger teen froze slightly as his question was thrown back at him, falling silent as Bill sighed and leaned in to kiss his Forehead, lips brushing past the multiple moles there, hidden like a constellation.

“I would tug you closer myself but I don't think I have the strength in me, Pine tree...come here.”

Bill whispered quietly, feeling Dipper almost immediately scoot closer, burying himself against Bill’s bare chest and wrapping his own legs around the Latter’s.

“Sleep on it. We can talk more tomorrow.”

Dipper was quiet, and Bill could only hold him close, holding fast to the only thing he really had left in his life; someone to care about.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update :'>
> 
> Life has been kinda different here in NY and the change of pace kinda got to me :'> sorry guys- 
> 
> But yes--- finally! A Sex scene :> I wonder if everyone else found it not as satisfying as it should have been /evil cackles tbh/ 
> 
> No we ain't having good, absolutely satisfying smut just yet. There need to be some explainations and questions asked before bOop. 
> 
> /I also refuse to further clarify what bOop means/ 
> 
> But yes- I would just like to say that according to my beta this chapter felt good- And definitely brought some relief but not enough to make someone feel comfortable- 
> 
>  
> 
> Also- I have already thought of a sequel for this tbh but I'm worried how far I should take this fic after it ends :<  
> Maybe the introduction of a Villian
> 
> Anyways!!! I really appreciate everyone who has left a nice little comment for me and kudos all this while :'> it really keeps me going


	21. Chapter 21

  
The next morning broke unceremoniously with the sound of distant sirens wailing down the streets, causing a flock of pigeons to erupt into a feathered frenzy by the window. Dipper roused with a Low groan, lifting his head to see that Bill was still peacefully asleep before him, his single eye shut, beautiful platinum blonde hair falling over his face. His lips were dry, parted, breathing soft and steady, and he looked at least 5 years younger all relaxed like that.

Dipper smiled, pausing slightly before planting a brief kiss to Bill’s shoulder. He couldn't help but recall their conversation the night before and felt the embarrassment crawl under his skin, urging him to inch out of Bill’s hold and off the side of the bed, immediately regretting his decision as he felt the shared warmth leave him. It was uncomfortable, knowing the man he at least admired and respected had feelings for him, and he wasn't really quite sure how or if he could even begin to return them just yet. Heaving a quiet sigh, he did his best to shrug it off and get ready for the day, making his way to the cupboard to put some pants on.

It was pretty funny, actually, to see that Bill had been worn out from their bathroom shenanigans the night before, to the point where he was pretty much a log at 10am in the morning. Though, Dipper figured he was probably exhausted and trying to recover in general, and he did deserve the break.

There was no lying either that The teen did feel a lot like shit that morning though, as he slipped into the Kitchen to start on the morning coffee. His stomach felt hollow and shrunken, and his lower back was killing him from the awkward sex position they had adopted in the shower. He decided that maybe, getting something inside himself that wasn't just pure caffeine for breakfast was probably a smart idea.

So he put the kettle on the stove and went ahead to stick some bread into the toaster, only to have his attention turned towards the bedroom where there was the sound of sheets rustling noisily, followed by a deep groan.

“.....Dipper?-”

Bill’s voice was slightly panicked after the slight pause, and the teen swallowed, startled at the tone of Bill’s voice, yet simultaneously hating the part of himself that wanted to keep silent just to see what would happen.

“I'm here- in the kitchen. I'm coming”

He called back gently, immediately abandoning his coffee grounds to skip back to the bedroom. As he caught his hands on the doorframe and poked his head back in, he saw Bill, broad shoulders tensed, fists gripping the sheets as he sucked in a deep breath. The Tattoos on his back almost seemed to be alive, more so than ever, breathing in sync with him, undulating across each carved piece of muscle down his spine in the morning light. Sunrays filtered through the drawn curtains, glistening in his hair and across his tan skin, masking his sculpted body in a partial shadow. His hair was a rumpled mess, single blue eye glimmering with some sort of strangled emotion as Dipper approached him and sat down on the bed beside him. He was mildly concerned- yes. Bill was having a lot of abandonment issues lately, but Dipper wasn’t going to be too quick to judge.

“...Christ. That...i thought you’d left for real- i'm sorry…”

He breathed out, almost as if he was panting, the end of his sentence trailing off into a strangled laugh akin to something like borderline insanity.

“No, Bill...it’s fine, hey…look.”

Dipper mumbled with a soft chuckle, gently unfurling Bill’s fingers from the sheets and pressing the older man’s calloused hands to his face.

“I'm here. Not going anywhere just yet.”

He hummed, smiling weakly as Bill nodded rather numbly and cupped his face, running his thumb across Dipper’s cheek, studying his soft features as the teen leaned into his warm touch. It was nice, like this, and Bill moved in to plant a kiss to his nose after a moment more of quiet.  
  
“Thank you.”

Then more silence, and Dipper wasn’t sure what else to say besides nod in acknowledgement.

“Were you having breakfast..?”

“Yeah. Coffee and Toast.”

Dipper replied as Bill then reached over for the black hide eyepatch and draped it over his face with a small sigh, blocking out his empty socket and combing a hand through his messy blonde locks. He smiled brightly, momentarily, catching Dipper off guard for just a split second before the conversation was diverted and Dipper felt himself unintentionally turning away more than just physically.

Then it got really quiet and awkward.

“Pine tree...like I said, I think we should talk.”

Bill started off, heaving a small sigh as he shifted carefully on the bedding and looked up to Dipper, who was currently chewing on his lower lip with a hand fisted in the sheets.

“If something is on your mind, you should tell me. I'm worried about you.”

Bill finished, eye now trailing across the marks he had left on Dipper’s neck and collarbones, a dark, angry purple and red; like blossoming orchids across pale skin. His eyes were watery, lips reddened, knuckles white.

“Dipper.”

He tried again, this time quieter as he waited, hearing his own heartbeat ring in his ears

“Bill- I- I'm sorry. I don't know how to say this…”

Dipper was horrifically silent before he started, voice hiccuping, words difficult as he turned to Bill, a sharp, metaphoric pain shredding through him.

“I...I can't do this.”

He chuckled at first before releasing a sob in a small hiccup, trying his back to withhold the tears

“Do what?”

_/what are you saying?/_

“Love you back. Love you the way you love me.”

Dipper clarified simply, feeling Bill’s gaze fall on him, watching every nuance in his body language. Dipper was suddenly hyper aware of the fact the he was being scrutinised and sank back visibly, cowering slightly even when Bill only just shifted and heaved a soft sigh.

“Are you saying you want to go home?”

_/Please don't leave me/_

“N-no…”

“Then Say what you mean, Little tree.”

_/I don't understand/_

He continued to prompt, giving the smaller male a gentle smile as he sat upright and waited patiently for him to go on.

“I can't date you- At least not like this.”

Dipper said quietly after a small silence, vaguely gesturing towards his entire body as he looked down, ashamed that Bill wanted him to spell out every childish emotion he was feeling in that moment.

“Go on...”

_/You are the only one I have left./_

Bill prodded gently, voice clearly burdened with withheld emotions as he reached forward to wipe a fresh tear from Dipper’s cheek when it leaked from his brown, muddy eyes, causing the teen to briefly hiccup and swallow a sob. Bill was so gentle- so sensitive and patient it hurt Dipper to even think about what he would do without him

“I do not think I am emotionally available right now. Neither do I think you are.”

Dipper swallowed before he spoke quickly, sucking in a deep breath as he looked up to watch Bill’s face for a reaction. But was taken aback, only to see that the older man was just looking down at the bed, fingers knotted thoughtfully, as if he had saw it coming, but his expression was clearly pained.

“Bill…please. Look at me.”

Dipper called softly, expecting the worst case scenarios occurring, like for Bill to slap him across the face or quite possibly murder him; but the older man simply nodded and looked up to him, that piercing blue eye raking through him; searching the teen’s expression for an answer. It was like he had given up hope- a man with nothing left to lose. And Dipper hoped to any metaphysical god out there Bill wasn't begging him for mercy.

“....God. You are a beautiful, beautiful man, Bill Cipher.”

Dipper blurted out softly, voice instead coming out in a pained laugh. Bill’s expression softened visibly, the creases in his face smoothing out as Dipper scooted closer and raised a hand to cup the injured side of His face

“You're really attractive. You know? You've been one of the only men who entertained my banter and didn't just want me as a “cum dumpster”

The teen spoke softly, savouring the way Bill leaned into his touch, blonde hair soft and fluffy by his finger tips. He could have been blushing, and Dipper would have confirmed it if it wasn't for the tears flooding his eyes

“Did someone call you that before..? A cum dumpster.”

Bill followed up, pale azure eye flashing intelligently, earning himself a small smirk from the teen between teary eyes

_/i hated that someone disrespected you like that/_

“Yes. Yes they did. But- that's not my point, Bill...I-”

Dipper cut himself off, just for a moment, watching as Bill just listened to him, one of his calloused hands holding on to Dipper’s against his cheek, warm and sturdy, waiting for him to continue, expression broken, feckless- yet patient.

“My point is that...I think I need time to consider this. Being committed to you at least.”

“Me?”

_/This was the bad sex, wasn't it? Maybe I should have just ordered that glass eye on Amazon.They offered free shipping too./_

“Well- yes actually, specifically being committed to you. Because…”

Dipper had shifted uncomfortably this time, swallowing a fearful, pensive hiccup as he looked to Bill

“I'm a slut. You’ve probably known this a Long time ago anyways- I've just never anticipated being monogamous until, well-”

His voice quavered, and suddenly Bill’s hand had fallen from the one on his face, and he was shifting closer to Dipper, placing a hesitant, yet comforting hand on his thigh as he leaned forward to kiss The Teen’s forehead.

“....Sugar pine. You should have said something earlier. And God forbid, you aren't a slut. I know you have standards.”

_/why would you keep this from me/_

“I-I'm sorry...I just…”

“No- please don't apologise. Please don't...I feel bad for forcing this onto you without checking in on where you were in all this.”

/oops I fucked up/

“Bill…it's not-”

“Hey. We've been through a lot…good, and bad.”

/this is my fault/

Bill interrupted gently, heaving a soft sigh as he briefly looked down at the bandages around his torso and the various cuts lining his forearms, before looking back up to Dipper. The boy was quivering like a leaf.

“But there should be no reason whatsoever for you to be obligated to stay here with me.”

/let's not make this difficult/

Dipper could hear Bill’s heart harden, his strong jaw set as he heaved a difficult breath and took a moment to relax. When he looked up again, he was smiling, and he nuzzled their noses together. Bill’s breath was warm, his forehead heavy against Dipper’s as the younger man could only bottle up everything that was bubbling inside him like a stew of vitriol. The guilt. The selfishness; oh the humanity. He closed his eyes, feeling Bill’s hair tickle his eyelids, his scent warm and familiar.

“I love you. Just know I really do- and that's why I will let you go. Okay?”

************************

1st December

“And you’re sure you'll be okay...by yourself that is.”

Dipper said quietly as he shuffled away from the check in counter with his boarding pass back to the tall Latino waiting for him by the security checkpoint. He was wearing a white dress shirt with folded up sleeves and mustard yellow slacks, a brown bow tie and suspenders completed the look along with his slicked back, immaculately styled hair and the leather eyepatch Dipper had given him. He was gorgeous, with his usual effortless updo, and Dipper couldn't help but admit he was a little too puffed up at the fact that the person he had rejected having closed relations with was so devilishly handsome. Heck, the girl at the check-in counter wouldn't stop staring.

“Yes. 1) I'm feeling much better after the cast was removed. 2) I already bought your ticket so.”

Bill smiled happily, bending his elbow and fingers to show Dipper his regained dexterity before stretching his arms over his chest.

“Mm. I'm Glad you went to physio anyways. You'll be fine in no time…”

Dipper murmured, not expecting a reply to that as Bill quietly led him to the security check-in, the wailing murmur of the crowd swallowing them up, muting their silence.

“I..what will you be doing once you get better? Did you find a job yet.”

Dipper stumbled, going straight back to practicalities to try and end the weIrd space of silence between just the two of them. He looked up to the towering man beside him, who could only laugh, a chuckle so sweet and genuine and brilliant it was like looking at the sun

“Honestly, I don't know yet, Pine tree. Maybe I'll sell cocaine or something.”

He hummed, as if it was a genuine thought. Yes. This was the Bill Cipher he knew and admired. The same one that wanted him all to himself- yet simply couldn't commit to.

God dammit the world wasn't fair.

“Knowing you, I can't tell if you're joking. But please. Don't.”

Dipper sighed with a playful smile, looking around briefly before leaning in close to Bill, grappling onto his suspenders as he tilted his Chin up to kiss the older man, effectively taking him by surprise. Their lips met, something soft, delicate and careful; so unlike their usual ‘tongue-wrestling’, as Mabel had described it over the phone.

“I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you again, Bill.”

Dipper admitted shyly, closing his eyes as he felt Bill hold on to his hips, drawing him into an intimate embrace as he kissed the top of the boy's head affectionately. Reassuring him in a silent, promising way; a way Dipper knew only Bill Cipher could.

“And you say you don't love me.”

“Shut up.”

Dipper flushed, pausing before leaning in to kiss Bill’s jugular, feeling Bill’s pulse sing beneath his skin. His lips lingered there, and Dipper wondered if he did that in a way that was intentionally threatening. His own way of monopolising something he wasn't even sure he wanted.

“I hate you.”

“And I'll promise I'll wait for you, Dipper. See what Fate has to say about this, huh?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas my boIs!!!! 
> 
> Ahhh. A bitter sweet chapter. But I bet some of you saw this coming-
> 
> \+ 10 points if you got the Archer referrence 
> 
> They both aren't ready for each other- I think. And they've both come to realise that Sex doesn't solve problems. It's not all just make up Sex and hugs and kisses that fix people and their relationships, and that's important to remember in chapters to come :>
> 
> I promise a happy ending for these two. But for now, we'll have to go through the reality of this! Dipper still has stuff to work out- and we will hear more of Bill's side of the story soon enough- with the introduction of a new antagonist (I would say) that will also help us branch into the sequel to this work, Love as a Metaphor, which can be found here
> 
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/13013070/chapters/29759664
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you everyone for the support! See y'all again in the next chapter :> we've got a little more to go!


	22. Chapter 22

4th December

“Mercury in retrograde begins tonight.”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean.”

Pacifica hummed nonchalantly, lighting her bright pink bong as she inhaled sharply, watching Dipper watch the moon, eyes transfixed on the constellations in the dim night sky; concave and complex against depthless ebony.

“A bad omen for fire and earth signs. Or well, at least according to astrology.”

Dipper explained very briefly with a shrug of his shoulders, nursing the cigarette in his hand as he rested his other hand on his hip, letting a comfortable silence settle over them. From the Top of the water tower observatory, looking out a glass dome at the frosty night sky, Dipper closed his eyes, letting the vacuum take him, the space surround him, the quiet and the smell of fresh pot the calmest scent in the world.

“I don't get it- also what's a fire sign.”

“Astrology, Pacifica. Like, your star sign.”

“Oh.”

Silence, Dipper inhaling a deep gulp of his cigarette as he recalled his first few conversations with Bill in person- about how he didn't have a birthdate and Dipper had just assigned him as a fire elemental, Aries.

Damn, what a mistake. In theory that is.

“Well- Mercury rules all types of communication, including listening, speaking, learning, reading, editing, researching, negotiating, selling, and buying….so when it moves in retrograde, it is advised we shouldn't make any important decisions cause nothing will be grounded in the future to come during this period.”

“Is that why you aren't handing shit in for your thesis?”

Pacifica deadpanned with a dry laugh, coughing up a small puff of smoke as Dipper elaborated, and the younger man felt his heart strings tighten.

Important decisions. Like relationships.

“That's a pretty shitty excuse when Mr Richard starts coming for your ass, Dip- what are you going to tell’em; ‘As above, so too below?’”

(Because Dipper’s birth sign is Virgo, and earth sign)

Dipper chose not to reply to that as Pacifica laughed at her own joke; though it was a pretty solid burn, just with bad timing. He closed his eyes and gave a soft sigh. Bill had messed him up; and he was in so many wrong places, feeling so many wrong things that he couldn't get any work done even if he really tried.

“....Babe. Tell me, Why did you go to New York.”

Pacifica gently interrupted, Taping Dipper on the ankle with her bong to offer him a whiff as she noticed how crestfallen he seemed, patting the floor beside herself.

“To visit Bill. Take care of him.”

Dipper replied easily, taking a seat and accepting the bong gratefully with a Nod of thanks as he lit himself a round

“Why did you come back then? To the good old GF...Government agents are pretty loaded- and the MoMA is in New York! It's where you wanna go right? Plus, Bill must be all kinds of fucked up now huh.”

She mumbled, looking to Dipper as the boy took a Long breather, choking on the smoke as he heaved out partially in relief, lungs searing with heat.

“I don't- love him.”

Dipper coughed, thumping his chest briefly as he shook his head, spotting Pacifica’s eye roll from his peripheral

“Oh ppsh- you say that with such absoluteness it almost makes me question you more.”

The blonde laughed, punching Dipper in the arm as he grabbed a swig of Alcoholic Mabel juice from the pitcher to wash down the burn in his throat. The sweetness of concentrated kool-aid and Apple cider numbed the flame in his larynx, a blue-green plastic triceratops bumping against his upper lip as he put the Mug down, looking The smug girl next to him dead in the eye.

“I'm serious...I couldn't say it back.”  
  
Dipper sighed, rolling his shoulders as he heard his stiff joints crack in response.

“Wait- he SAID he loved you?”

She blinked, incredulous as she paused from taking a swig of her bong, the device now smoking, bleeding wasted marijuana into the air as she looked to him, blue eyes blown Wide.

“Multiple times, actually.”

Dipper hummed rather matter of factly in response, the bitter aftertaste of vodka lingering in his mouth as he licked his lips and went back to his cigarette.

“Dipper….”

She whined and Dipper gave up with his cigarette as he groaned

“He wanted to date. ‘something serious’ he said- I panicked okay-?”

“.....Fool!!!!!”

The older girl screeched in Falsetto, doubling over onto the wooden floorboards as her laughter permeated the air. He tousled blonde hair fanned out behind, twisted against the rotting wood, the static from her wooden, white sweater catching messy bundles of it on her shoulders. Her eyes curled up like crescent moons with Long lashes, and her blue eyes pierced Dipper’s like sapphire daggers when she paused to breath, chest heaving.

“Pacifica-”

“It's dubbed Denial- Dipper.”

Pacifica chortled as she sat up slowly, rubbing the tears from her eyes as she pat out the folds in her skirt. She then lit her bowl for another puff, the bong bubbling as she sucked in another deep breath and seethed. Just for a dramatic pause.

“And look at them apples- plosives!”

She proceeded to scoff through a pummel of smoke, slamming her sparkly pink, sequin lighter onto the wooden table of the deck, coughing out steam with an unamused half smile.

“That means I'm serious about this, Mason Pines. God knows what he'll be thinking when you literally rejected his vulnerability.”

“Yeah, but I don't want to lie to him-”

“Honey, the only person you are lying to here is yourself. I've never seen you have sex with the same person for this Long. That's already a first.”

“Sex and love are two very different things, Pacifica.”

Dipper grumbled in frustration, the cigarette going back between his lips as he sighed and turned away slightly.

“Pull down your turtleneck.”

The blonde girl clucked, ignoring his initial rejection of her advice and tugged at the hem of Dipper’s collar with a finely manicured finger

“Why-”

“You know exactly why. I don't need to show you a mirror- do I?”

She rolled her eyes, jabbing her fingers against a large teeth mark below Dipper’s ear, almost visible through his hair line.

“How many times in your life has someone chosen to mark you like that, Dipper. Let me answer that for you- twice. First Bill, then Carlos, which is a tangent we need to visit. But for the most part, Bill.”

Pacifica continued to lecture, diverting her attention to the jug of Mabel juice before her, pouring herself a Mug of the sugary concoction.  
Dipper watched, feeling the buzz of the alcohol slowly warm his skin, smiling slightly as he saw a yellow Pterodactyl plop into Pacifica’s cup.

“Every time you tell me you go out with him, whether you have sex or not- he leaves you with a part of him, Dipper. It's more than just a fetish, sometimes.”

“Okay and how is this related to me lying to myself about my own feelings for Bill.”

“You let him! Dipper! He honestly seems like such a nice guy based on what you've told me and he takes good care of you. He would never do something like that if you told him not to.”

“......”

“Ie: you wear those marks like battle scars, Dipper. You are proud of them.”

**********************

6th December

“Nice eye patch, Capt’n Cipher!”

Came a familiar teasing Tenor from the main lobby of the CIA lobby as Bill stepped through the revolving doors, only to see the Devil’s advocate himself striding towards him. Plain black suit, black shirt black shoes and all, he was the personification of every other normal Agent in the building, just another random person. But don't be fooled- this man had a cleft in his Chin instead of his foot- but Bill knew better than to be mistaken.

“Good to see you again, Tad.”

Bill replied in a dry monotone, clearly not in a pleasant mood to be dealing with anyone whose sole purpose in life was to tick him off. As he shrugged off his leather coat and folded it over his arm, he tensed up, feeling the man before him sling an arm over his shoulder.

“Oh come on pal- why so moody~ spy industry not as hot as it used to be?”

Said man grinned, squeezing the blonde Latino tightly by the arm as Bill tried to politely walk in the opposite direction. He swallowed the acid in his throat, threatening to snap like a alligator at a gazelle. It was pretty difficult to resist the urge to throw Tad a nice, jaw-crunching punch across the face, especially now that his arm had healed and Tad was grinning like a goddamn fool. But he instead looked up, staring down the man next to him who was smiling so manically it kinda irked him.

Self control, Cipher

“I'm really here on business, Tad. I have a job to do- and unlike you I'm rather committed.”

Bill started firmly, the Man beside him clearly fooling around during office hours to be lounging in the main lobby to greet him.

“Job? Bill- you don't work here anymore.”

He had chuckled darkly, side stepping as Bill brushed his arm off and strode towards the elevators with a quickened stride. But He bounded alongside the Taller Latino, still dismissive of the idea of leaving him along as he hummed merrily, blocking the elevator buttons as Bill reached it.

“Tad. Move. Please, I have a meeting to attend-”

“Well according your termination, you are trespassing federal property.”

“I have yet to receive a letter or any form of dialogue specifying termination, or heard anything at all from the CIA for that matter. And according to Federal Law- that is filled as illegal termination. I've got a pretty good profile here and I degree in Law and Psychology, Tad. So if you'd excuse me I'll take the stairs.”

Bill finished curtly as he quickly turned on his heel, taking out his employment pass attached to the yellow Lanyard Wendy had once got him from his suit pocket and hanging it around his neck. He tapped into the security doors leading to the main offices.

Access granted.

Bill tried his best not to outwardly triumph at the fact that he had rendered Tad silent, and proceeded to walk up the stairwell, brushing past other employees in the office sector.

Because truth be told, he hadn't made an appointment with anyone - Nor was he certain that the CIA had not restricted access for his access card. Blind luck; he had supposed, but still took it in his stride to walk up towards the office sector; where he was sure, they had placed Wendy off Field duty. There was no way a ‘rogue’ CIA agent’s partner would be allowed back in the field just yet, after all.

“I'm looking for Ms Wendy Corduroy.”

Bill smiled, tapping the shoulder of a random office employee who he hadn't see before in his life. The man almost dropped his keyboard as Bill tapped his arm, and blinked, shocked almost, before stumbling out

“O-oh- she is in her office-”

Bill nodded in thanks, quickly slipping past him before he even had time to look down at the taller male’s name card and zipped past the crowd towards Wendy’s and his office at the end of the corridor. He pressed in the code to enter, only to see Wendy at her desk, absolutely appalled at the sight of him standing there in all his glory; striking yellow blazer, black pants and bow tie, eyepatch and all

“Bill- how the fuck...did you get past security?”

“A nice ‘hello, how have you been’ would’ve been nice too”

He mused, breath leaving him in a chuckle as Wendy hugged him tight, nearly tackling him against the door frame. He hugged her back gently, smiling at the way she nuzzled her face to his chest, as if she couldn't believe he was alive and walking.

“My god, you're wearing a skirt.”

He laughed as she pulled away first, smirking At her newfound office attire: boring white blouse and a black pencil skirt

“They made me- look, we shouldn't stay here to talk I-”

“Wendy, as the best damn agent this side of the Country- I refuse. I came all the way up here from the Bronx to Maine- on the fucking Subway, Mind you. And I am jolly well going to have a talk in my own office.”

Bill hummed matter-of-factly, plopping down onto his old office chair which still was as uncomfortable as he remembered it to be. He swivelled around, peeling off his gloves before looking up to the baffled Wendy, whose shocked expression only turned into one of utter amusement as she settled into the plastic chair opposite Bill’s desk, heaving a soft sigh.

“Bill, we didn't mean to leave you in the dark. It was the only way to keep you in the hospital to rest and recover.”

“Oh no, I don't blame you for that at all. I know how stubborn I can be. I'm just here to ask you what's the deal now with my healthcare plan. Do I get lifetime health insurance along with my termination?”

Bill laughed, folding his hands on the oakwood surface of his secondhand Craigslist office desk, smiling wickedly, watching as Wendy sighed, crossing her arms in desperation.

“You- Bill- you know I wouldn't let them ever terminate you.”

“Correct. But being assigned to office duty is a sentence no better than death itself, at least well, for me. I can see you aren't necessarily ‘suffering’, per say”

He countered, sighing softly as he scratched the bottom of his Chin where he could already feel a stubble forming beneath his dermis.

“They've been making me fix the Wifi on every level about 3 times every week. If not- I'm filing old paper work- so yes, I'm completely losing my sanity here, thank you very much.”

Wendy made a sound of exasperation as she clucked her tongue

“Well. Bad news but Khris has been reassigned- to another field team. It's not like he can pull any strings for us any more.”

Wendy said quietly, leaning back on her plastic chair, and Bill watched as the plastic squeaked beneath her weight, partially zoning out as he processed the situation, thinking of a solution- doing his best not to test the patience of the higher ups.

“So- who are we headed by now?”

“Oh god. Don't even make me say his name.”

Wendy groaned, rolling her eyes as she stood back up and and adjusted her blouse, clearly not comfortable in it.

“Who? can't be as bad as running into Tad Strange on a daily basis.”

Bill snorted in disbelief, the idiotic man’s smile still burned into his skull.

“It's Aiden. Aiden Axotol. And trust me- you aren't getting anywhere with trying to manipulate his ass into letting us get back on field assignments.”

Bill had stood up at this, smiling as if he was quite proud of the current arrangement and dusted off his suit, not saying a word more as Wendy stood up and followed suit.

“Bill, what do you think you are doing?”

“Going to have a nice chat with the King himself, my dear- would you like to come along?”

The Latino chuckled as he ran a hair through his immaculately styled hair, looking down towards the younger woman.

“What about Dipper?”

“What about him?”

“Does he know you came back here?”

“The boy doesn't need to know, or worry about anything else, Wendy. I sent him back to the Falls.”

Bill replied, tone suddenly a little darker, expression falling at the mention of the teen’s name. And then there was silence, Wendy watching as Bill turned with a tired sign, shoulders slumping, as if all his confidence about the plan had left him in a whoosh at just the mention of the Teen’s name.

“Didn't work out huh.”

“He needs...time. To work things out.”

“Was that what he said exactly?”

Wendy asked carefully, hearing Bill sigh regretfully in response.

“No, well- he said ‘ I don't think I am emotionally ready, and neither do I think you are.’”

“Aw fuck…”

“He is young. I'll let it slide. It's okay. I...I don't think I'm a very good candidate for him anyways.”

Bill chuckled, but Wendy could hear how he had forced it out, and how there was still something eating at him- like a parasite that he couldn't just shrug off.

“And what does- ‘not a very good candidate’ imply.”

“I'm a rogue spy-to-be, killed people, almost got killed- have some form of PTSD, Oh and I also have an eyepatch.”

“You're insane.”

Wendy rolled her eyes in exclamation, watching as Bill made a full circle back to his desk, plonking down on it in defeat. He leaned his elbows on the table, massaging his Temples briefly before breathing out.

“I don't- really wanna talk about it right now.”

He uttered, feeling Wendy’s concerned gaze fall on him as she sighed softly, arms tightly crossed around her chest.

“As a registered Psychology major, Bill- you should know better than to keep all this shit to yourself and let it fuck you up.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New year everyone :>  
> And obligatory family dinners to celebrate something that is a mere human construct (after all we, humans, who were the ones that structured this whole yearly system to break up time into frequencies we actually understand and nothing has actually changed)  
> Means that I have had time to write longer chapters that will be more fulfilling heuheueudhjddud
> 
> Idk how I feel about putting Bill back on his feet and introducing so many new characters in a single chapter- but eh we shall see how this goes :>
> 
> Stay tuned for the next chapter! I promise some Bill and Dipper time isjsusjaikajsjdjfkfofk it will be fluffy and angst and sweet jadjcjkfkfkd 
> 
> Like Szechuan sauce 
> 
> +10 points if u get the ref 
> 
> I love making references.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!!! I hope Ya like this chapter :> :'>
> 
> Do leave a kudos if u have enjoyed this so far and want me to continue!!! I'm itching to post the next chapter but it'll have to wait for now :>
> 
> Let me know what ya think in the comments below too! I love reading them MwAhahaha also for inspiration purposes :>
> 
> See ya soon!  
> -Rei


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